


my town is coming alive ('cause I'm coming home tonight)

by holtzbabe



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-06-27 21:15:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19797904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holtzbabe/pseuds/holtzbabe
Summary: Seconds tick by like hours.Erin's voice shakes. “What do you want me to say?”Holtz bites down on her lip, then hesitantly reaches up, eyes following her hand as she pushes Erin’s windswept hair off her face. Her hand lingers there, her gaze dipping back down again. “Give me a reason to stay, Erin,” she whispers.Erin stares deep into her eyes, sees the plea in them, and something primal and painful aches inside of her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ask me why I started a new fic when I'm supposed to be finishing my other ones
> 
> Chapters for this one will likely be short, and mostly for dramatic emphasis lol. Expect frequent updates, I've already written 3000 words of this and I should have the next chapter sorted and posted soon. I'm trying something new with this fic so I'm still trying to figure it out as I go

* * *

STANFORD, CALIFORNIA, USA: 2026

* * *

The message comes in at 2:45pm the day before Erin’s 53rd birthday.

She can see it light up her screen in her purse, which is resting down by her feet. She glances down discreetly, trying to make out the words.

“Erin. Are you listening?”

Her eyes snap back up. “Yes, of course,” she says stiffly.

“Your attention is critical right now, Erin.”

She tugs at the sleeves of her blazer. “You don’t need to keep saying my name. I’m listening.”

A scoff from the chair beside her.

She shifts in her seat, folding her hands in her lap and crossing her leg. Her eyes dart down to her phone again, which is curiously still lit up, the notification frozen on her screen.

The lawyer leans forward across his desk in front of her. “Erin.”

Her eyes go to him again. “I’m listening,” she repeats.

He waves his hand dismissively. “No, please, by all means, check your phone. I know you are well aware what my time costs, so you must have decided that my time is not as valuable as yours.”

She shakes her head firmly. “I’m sorry. Whatever it is, it can wait. It’s not as important as this.”

“How very generous of you.” The lawyer taps the papers in front of him on the desk. “Now, do I have your permission to get back to the matter at hand, Mrs. Whitman?”

A long pause.

“Yes,” Erin says. “Please proceed.”

He stares at her long and hard, then pushes his glasses up his nose, bending his head over the pages once more. “Very well. Now, as I was saying…”

* * *

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, USA: 2026

* * *

Patty is in the middle of packing up for the day when a message notification pops up on her phone. She swipes her reading glasses off her desk and unlocks it, frowning down at her screen, trying to process what it says.

There’s a loud knock on her office door.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, Dr. Tolan. Are you busy? I’ll be quick.”

Patty rereads the message in stunned disbelief, then grins as she absorbs the words.

“ _Hell_ yes!” she shouts, punching the air.

Her grad student jumps, eyes wide. “Um, I can come back if this isn’t a good time?”

“No, no, come on in.” Patty locks her phone and sets it on her desk, waving her in. “I just got some good news, that’s all. Whatcha got for me?”

“Well, um, I just got a really interesting answer back from the New York State Archives about that 61st Street lead that you asked me to follow up on last month, and thought you might want to take a look at what they said.”

Patty’s grin widens, taking the offered tablet from her and studying the screen. “No kidding? If that ain’t good timing, I don’t know what is…”

* * *

MEYRIN, GENEVA, SWITZERLAND: 2026

* * *

It’s nearly midnight when there’s a buzzing noise from the end table.

“Did you forget to turn it off?” a sleepy voice mumbles.

Holtz rolls over, opening her bleary eyes to take in the light glowing from the table. “Who the hell is messaging me this late?”

“Ah, it’s just your phone.” A yawn. “That’s boring.”

“I swear it was muted.” Holtz grabs her phone and squints at the screen, reading the words once, twice, three times.

Yep, there’s only one person she knows who could and would hack her way past a Do Not Disturb mode from nearly 4000 miles away.

At her silence, a head pops up beside her in bed, blinking into the dim light. “Who is it, babe?”

A slow smile spreads on Holtz’s face as she scans the words one more time.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “It’s just a call I gotta answer.”

**ABBY YATES:** _SUIT UP, LADIES. EVERYONE’S FAVORITE PARANORMAL PSYCHOPATH IS BACK TO PLAY. HOW SOON CAN YOU GET TO NEW YORK?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I'd update frequently! 
> 
> ...except now all hell is going to break loose this week because I'm starting a new job, and watch i'll eat my own words

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2019

* * *

Patty is the first to leave.

“Last one in, first one out,” she jokes.

Three distraught faces (and one confused one) stare back at her blankly.

“You can’t leave,” Abby says. “What about us?”

“Sorry, man. You know I love all this—” She gestures at them— “but I’m never gonna get an opportunity like this again and I gotta take it.”

“We could give you the same opportunity,” Abby argues.

She raises her eyebrows at her. “You’d pay me to tour around and curate the world’s largest paranormal history archive? And fund my doctorate while you’re at it?”

“Yes,” Abby says, a beat too late.

“We’re so proud of you, Patty,” Erin says softly, “but it’s not going to be the same around here without you.”

“Damn right it’s not,” Patty says. “I’m the one holding this team together. Y’all were a mess before I joined.”

Erin laughs, nodding her head once in agreement. “The University of Chicago is very lucky to have you.”

Patty grins. “Oh, I know.”

Abby crosses her arms. “I _guess_ I’m happy for you.”

It’s probably as good as she’s going to get. “Thanks, Abs. I’m gonna miss you like crazy. All of y’all.” She points at Kevin. “Even your big dumb beautiful ass.”

“I’ve been doing crossfit,” Kevin says.

“Good for you, man,” Patty says genuinely.

She looks to the only one who hasn’t said anything.

“Holtzy?” she prompts.

Holtzmann’s eyes are glued to the floor. “You’re really leaving?”

Patty nods. “I really am. Sorry, baby. You know I’ll text you every day.”

“You fuckin’ better.” Holtz wrings her hands. “Guess I always thought that this was it, you know? That we were all trapped here doing this forever.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Abby warns. “I knew I should’ve made you guys sign a loyalty pledge when you started.”

Erin rolls her eyes.

Patty stands. “Alright, nerds, bring it on in.”

They rise as well, converging in to envelope her in one last group hug.

* * *

STANFORD, CALIFORNIA, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin is cooking breakfast when her phone lights up with the third phone call from Abby since her initial message yesterday afternoon.

She reaches over the decline the call, then turns her attention back to her oatmeal cooking on the stove, giving it a stir. She doesn’t want it to burn to the bottom of the pot, which happens at least every other time.

On the counter, her phone starts vibrating again. This time a familiar face fills the screen with an incoming video call.

Erin sighs and picks up the phone, squinting down at it to try and find the button to decline the call.

“Erin, don’t you dare hang up on me. I can _see_ you.”

Erin nearly drops her phone. “What? I didn’t even answer!”

“I know,” Abby says smugly.

Erin blinks. “Did…did you hack into my camera?”

“Don’t worry about it. So why aren’t you on a plane?”

“I’m making breakfast,” Erin says stiffly.

“Kay, and _then_ are you getting on a plane?”

“Abby, I…”

“I _know_ you got my messages, Erin. This is a code green.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means impending ghost apocalypse, alright?”

“Well, why couldn’t you have just said that? Besides, green doesn’t sound serious.”

“Green means ectoplasm. It could not be any clearer.”

“Why are we fighting about this?” Erin glances down at her oatmeal, bubbling away. “I can’t talk to you right now.”

“You hang up on me and I’ll keep calling back every few seconds,” Abby threatens.

Erin lets out an exasperated sigh. “Abby, I’m too busy for this. I can’t come to New York. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to deal with this without me.”

“Uh, you think I haven’t been trying? Rowan is _back_ , Erin. He’s spent the last decade getting stronger and preparing for this. I’ve _tried_ to handle it, but me and my team can’t fight him alone.”

Erin pauses. “You have a new team?”

Abby waves her hand dismissively. “Just three people.”

“So you’ve replaced us. I don’t see why you need us.”

“Okay, you don’t get to act butthurt when _you’re_ the one who abandoned this operation,” Abby snaps. “I don’t need excuses. You promised you’d come back if I ever called. Patty’s already here, and Holtz is on her way. You’re the only one dragging your heels.”

Erin stills. “Holtz is coming?” she whispers to her oatmeal.

“Of course she’s coming. If she can make the trip from _Switzerland_ , then you have _no_ reason to not get on a plane today.”

Erin’s eyes snap back to Abby. “I’m nearly as far away from New York as Switzerland is.”

Abby scoffs. “She’s got a good 1000 miles on you _and_ the Atlantic. Don’t start.” She looks at something off screen and there’s the sound of keyboard clicks. “I’m sending you info on the next flights out of San Jose.”

“Abby, I can’t just drop everything and fly to New York, alright? I’m in the middle of…a lot right now.”

“No excuses,” Abby repeats. “Erin—I need you. Please.”

Erin bites her lip. “You…you said Holtz is on her way?”

“Yup.”

Erin swallows and looks back down at her oatmeal, which is starting to smoke.

When she looks back up, Abby is waiting expectantly.

“Okay. I’ll come.”

“Really?” Abby says like she was expecting this would take more of a fight. “Great. I’ll cover your accommodations while you’re here. Text me when you get a flight booked.”

“Will you cover my flight too?”

Abby snorts. “No room in the budget for that. You’ll be fine. You work at Stanford.”

Erin huffs. “I’ve gotta go. I burnt my oatmeal.”

“That’s not on me. Talk to you later.”

The video ends with a bloop. Erin sets her phone face-down on the counter, just in case Abby hacks into her camera again.

She looks at her sad breakfast, then turns the element off with a sigh, leaving the mess behind to go book a flight.

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2020

* * *

Erin is on the roof with Holtz, a new weapon heavy in her hands.

“Erin.” Holtz strides over, her hand landing on Erin’s shoulder. “You have no idea how ridiculous you look holding it like that.”

“Well, sorry that I don’t know how to hold a _bazooka_ , Holtz,” Erin teases.

Holtz grins. Her hand slides off Erin’s shoulder and down her arm, then comes up underneath the weapon. “You’ve gotta support it. Pretend it’s a floppy, life-ruining infant.”

“Your maternal instincts are heartwarming.”

Holtz’s grin widens. She sidles up to Erin, one hand on her waist, the other guiding the body of the firearm towards the target on the other side of the roof. “Kay, that’s the trigger. There’s going to be some kickback. Fire when ready, soldier.”

Erin screws up her face in concentration, then squeezes the trigger.

The resulting proton blast is far quieter than an actual bazooka, but it instantly tears the target to shreds and throws Erin backwards. Holtz catches her, immediately letting out a loud woop and starting to laugh.

Erin collapses in laughter, too. Holtz takes the proton bazooka from her and set it on a nearby ledge, then falls into her, one arm coming up her back to hold onto her.

“I’m going to miss this,” Holtz says.

Erin’s laughter quiets into a giddy smile. “What do you mean?”

Holtz isn’t laughing suddenly. She opens and closes her mouth, then tugs on her ear with her free hand.

“I got a call from CERN the other day.”

Erin’s smile fades from her face as well. “Oh. About what?”

Holtz licks her lips. “They pretty much begged me to come work for them.”

Erin blinks in surprise. “Seriously? What about—I thought after the last time, they…”

“The lab accident? Apparently it’s all water under the bridge.” Holtz shrugs.

“Wow. That’s…really amazing, actually. So how’d they take it when you said no?”

Holtz won’t meet her eyes.

Erin’s heart thumps. “You…you did tell them no, right?”

Holtz peeks up at her and runs her tongue along her teeth. “I told them I’d think about it.”

“I don’t understand.” Erin’s own voice echoes in her ears. “What is there to think about? Your life is here. Your family. How could you leave us?”

Holtz gazes at her fully now. “Patty already left. Why can’t I?”

“Because you—you just can’t.”

Holtz is so close that Erin can see every rise and fall of her chest.

“I guess I don’t what’s keeping me here. Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck,” Holtz says. “Like I’ll stay here forever, just…waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

Holtz holds her gaze for several long seconds.

“If I have a good enough reason to stay,” she says slowly, words measured, “then I will.”

She moves impossibly closer, hand pressing into Erin’s upper back, her face mere inches away.

Seconds tick by like hours.

Wind whips across the roof and tousles Erin’s hair, sticking to her mouth, covering her eyes, but she ignores it. Her voice shakes. “What do you want me to say?”

Holtz bites down on her lip, then hesitantly reaches up, eyes following her hand as she pushes Erin’s windswept hair off her face. Her hand lingers there, her gaze dipping back down again.

“Give me a reason to stay, Erin,” she whispers.

Erin stares deep into her eyes, sees the plea in them, and something primal and painful aches inside of her.

Then she disentangles herself from her, stepping out of her arms, catching the look on Holtz’s face before it smooths out again.

“Yeah.” Holtz reaches for the bazooka and slings it over her shoulder, then gives Erin one last look. “That’s what I thought.”

She makes for the door to the stairs, leaving Erin behind, then stops at the last minute and turns.

“Just so you know, I already accepted. I start in six months.”

Erin can’t say anything.

Holtz stares at her for a moment longer, then nods and leaves.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey more updates! I've barely written anything this week because I started a new job yesterday whoops but here ya go!

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin stands on the street with her suitcase, squinting up at the decrepit apartment building in front of her. Someone is screaming out one of the windows. There’s a man urinating in the alley beside the building.

She holds her suitcase close to her body and pulls out her phone, opening her last conversation with Abby. This is the address she gave her—but she said it was her new lab. Maybe there was a typo?

Her thumb hovers over the button to call her.

“Hey lady, are you coming in?” a man barks at her from the entrance, holding the door for her.

Against her better judgement, she nods.

The address Abby gave her said #435, so she lugs her suitcase up three flights of stairs, struggling the whole while and doing her best to ignore the uneasy goosebumps prickling on her skin.

She reaches the fourth floor, passing by a woman who literally has a snake draped around her neck like a scarf, and finds #435.

The door is ajar.

She hesitates, then knocks lightly. The door creaks open.

She takes a deep breath and steps into the doorframe.

“Hi there! Welcome to Ghost Corps. How can I help you?”

Erin jumps, and then stares when she realizes who’s speaking.

“Kevin…it’s me.”

Kevin squints at her from behind a tiny, overflowing desk positioned just inside the door. “Do you have an appointment?”

“It’s Erin? We worked together for five years?”

She hazards a glance into the rest of the room, which looks like a regular apartment to her, albeit that of a hoarder. There are papers and books and gadgets covering every square inch, piled on top of furniture and littering the floor. The microscopic room is crammed so tightly with junk that it makes Erin feel claustrophobic, even from the door.

Kevin frowns. “You’re not Erin.” He leans forward, craning his head to look back into the apartment, and points. “That’s Erin.”

A young man has just appeared from what Erin can only assume is the restroom, given the sound of a toilet flushing.

“Hey,” he says. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” She looks back and forth between him and Kevin, who she still can’t believe doesn’t recognize her.

“Aaron Brown.” The man extends a hand.

Erin’s eyes flicker to the bathroom door. “Did you wash your hands?”

He chuckles. “Yes.”

She purses her lips, steps inside, and shakes his hand. “Dr. Erin Gilbert.”

His face lights up. “Oh, awesome! You made it!”

“Where’s Abby?”

He hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “Taking a nap.”

“Down there?” She’s already pushing past him, picking her way over the piles on the floor, her suitcase forgotten at the door.

“Yeah, but I don’t think she’ll want—”

Erin crosses the cramped apartment and finds the other door in the short hallway, knocking once and then throwing it open.

Sure enough, Abby is passed out face-down on a mattress that’s resting on the floor. It takes up 90% of the room.

“Abby,” she says loudly.

No response.

Erin sighs. She lifts her foot and toes Abby’s torso, careful not to impale her with her heels.

Abby lets out some mix of a snore and a snort.

Erin nudges her harder.

That does it: Abby jolts and lifts her head. “Who the _fuck_ just—”

“Afternoon, Abby,” Erin says dryly.

“Erin! About time.”

“Have you just been _sleeping_ while you wait for me?” Erin plants her hands on her hips. “I thought this was an apocalypse-level threat. Or was that just a lie to get me here?”

Abby sits up, rubbing her eyes and reaching for her glasses. “I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in three weeks because I’ve been busy fighting this apocalypse on my own. Excuse the shit outta me for squeezing in a nap whenever I can.”

“The city looks fine to me,” Erin says indignantly. “Besides, you said you had a team of three.”

“I do. Me, Kevin, and Aaron.”

Erin blinks at her. “That is _not_ a team of three. You made it sound like you hired three people to replace us, not _one_ and Kevin.” Erin shakes her head. “Also, I can’t believe you replaced me with a guy named Aaron.”

“I didn’t, not really. He’s just my assistant. More useful than Kevin, but he’s mostly around to carry shit for me and hand me things while I work.”

Erin stares her down. “Wow. And what about this place?” She gestures around in disgust. “This isn’t a lab.”

“No, we had to let go of certain luxuries when our funding was slashed with a round of budget cuts. Including the lab.”

“And you couldn’t find anywhere better than this?” Erin catches a glimpse of a few boxes crammed at the foot of the bed. “Hold on—Abby, do you _live_ here?”

Abby stands and steps around her. “That’s none of your businesses.”

Erin spins and follows her into the hallway. “Uh, yeah, it is. You should’ve disclosed all of this before.”

Abby halts suddenly and whirls around. “Nope, nuh uh, you forfeited all rights when you left. I didn’t have to disclose _anything._ ”

“Oh, come on,” Erin groans. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad about that.”

Abby jabs a finger at her. “Of course I’m still mad. You _left_. After you swore you wouldn’t ever do that to me again.”

“But it wasn’t the same at all! Patty and Holtz left before me! Are you still mad at them too?”

“Patty and Holtz actually kept in contact with me,” Abby says. “And they dropped everything to come help. They’ve redeemed themselves.”

Erin rolls her eyes. “I called, too. _And_ I came. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I had to force you to come.” Abby turns and keeps walking back into the main room of the apartment. “Just let me hold my grudge in peace.”

Aaron presses a mug of coffee into her waiting hand. She blows on it and takes a sip, facing Erin again.

“Where are Patty and…Holtz, then?” Erin asks, ignoring the twinge that goes through her at her name.

* * *

There’s a beep and a click, and the hotel room door opens.

Patty immediately grabs the TV remote, brandishing it like a weapon. “Who’s there?”

A pause, and then Erin steps around the corner, eyes wide and alarmed. “Patty?”

“Erin?”

A few seconds pass.

“Shit, come here!” Patty throws the remote down and climbs off the bed. “It’s good to see you, man!”

Erin accepts her embrace, though she looks confused when she steps back. “Abby gave me this room key—she said this was my room?”

“You too?” Patty shakes her head in disbelief. “Where does she expect us all to sleep? Patty’s got a bad back. I ain’t sleeping on no pull-out bed.”

“Wait, do you mean she only got us one room? _Abby_.” Erin’s nose scrunches in irritation. She tugs her suitcase into the room, then stops and does a double take, seeming to notice the second bed for the first time. Her eyes widen further. “Wait, is that—”

Patty looks over at the prone form on the other bed. “Oh, sorry. We didn’t know you were coming so Holtzy claimed that one already.”

Erin’s eyes are fixed on Holtz. “Why is everyone asleep?” she mutters to herself.

“Girl’s jetlagged,” Patty says, sitting back on the edge of her bed. “Six hour time difference ’tween here and Switzerland, plus she missed her connecting flight so she’s been travellin’ for two days. Only got in a couple hours ago.”

“Oh,” Erin says, still staring.

“C’mon, come in, sit down; she’s so out right now that I don’t think a freight train could wake her up.”

“I, um…” Erin fiddles with the handle of her suitcase. “I should probably just go downstairs and see if they’ve got a vacant room I can get. Obviously this isn’t going to work.”

“You sure? I’m sure Holtzy would share—”

“No, no, I’m okay. I’ll go.” Erin backs up towards the door. “Thanks, though.”

“Come back after?”

“Will do,” Erin says, tugging her suitcase after her.

Patty waits until the door has clicked shut again, then picks up her laptop with a shake of her head.

* * *

Holtz jolts awake to the blaring sound of Blondie’s _Call Me._

Still half asleep and disoriented, she flails her hand around, trying to locate her phone, eventually finding it buried in the duvet beside her.

She fumbles to swipe on the screen without looking, then holds it up to her ear.

“The hell are you still doing awake?” she mumbles.

“Waiting to hear that you made it there safely?”

Holtz curses quietly, reaching up to rub her eyes with her free hand. “Yeah. Shit. Sorry. I made it—and then promptly passed out.”

“Well, congrats on not dying. Talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Holtz says sleepily. “Go to sleep. Love you.”

“Love you,” the voice in her ear chimes. The line goes dead.

Holtz tosses her phone back onto the bed, yawning and rolling onto her back.

“You goin’ back to sleep?” Patty says.

“Probably shouldn’t.” Holtz rubs her eyes again. “What time is it?”

“Nearly seven. You might wanna eat something?”

“Yeah, I could go for dinner. I’m starving.” Holtz struggles her eyes open, then rolls to face Patty.

Then freezes.

Erin, sitting primly on the edge of Patty’s bed, uncrosses her legs and lifts her hand like a robot.

“Hello, Holtzmann.”


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

“Hi,” Holtz says after a beat. She’s staring at Erin like she’s a ghost.

Erin shifts, crossing her legs again. “How are you?”

Holtz seems to recover, rolling up into a seated position and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She runs her hand through her hair. “Um. Good. Tired. How are you?”

“Fine,” Erin murmurs, gaze following Holtz’s hand. “You changed your hair,” she comments before she can stop herself.

Holtz shrugs. “I like to shake it up once a decade.”

“You kinda look like Dr. Gorin now.”

Holtz’s face hardens.

Erin realizes her mistake a moment later. “Shoot. Sorry, Holtz. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.” Holtz looks at her feet. “I guess you know, then?”

“Yeah,” Erin says softly. “I heard it from Patty.”

Upon saying her name, she realizes she’s nearly forgotten Patty is in the room. She glances over her shoulder, where Patty is sitting with her back against the headboard, clicking away on her laptop.

Awkward silence falls.

Holtz picks herself up off the bed. “Well, I guess I should go find something to eat.” She hesitates. “Um, have you guys eaten already?”

“Yeah, I went out while you were asleep,” Patty says. “Erin?”

Erin hesitates. Holtz is staring at her expectantly.

“No, I, um…ate already,” she says quickly.

As she says it, her stomach rumbles at the thought of dinner.

Holtz hears it. She raises an eyebrow, lips pressing into a hard line.

Erin ducks her head to avoid her scrutinizing.

“Alright, then,” Holtz says. “Just me. See you guys in a bit.” She grabs a wallet and set of keys from the foot of her bed. “Erin, you staying here, too?”

“Um, Abby gave me keys to this room, but obviously there isn’t room for the three of us, so I went and got another room for myself—it’s a couple floors down but still in the same building, so that’s good—”

Erin is rambling, she realizes, so she shuts herself up.

A beat. “Cool, well, if I don’t see you when I get back, have a good night.”

Erin bites down on her lip. “You too.”

Holtz nods, then slips from the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

“Well, that was tense as hell,” Patty says.

Erin stiffens, then gets up from the edge of the bed, turning to face her. “Was it?” she asks, forcing pleasant ignorance into her voice. “I didn’t notice anything.”

Patty raises an eyebrow at her. “I thought you said you hadn’t eaten dinner yet?”

Erin rubs her arm. “Oh, yeah, um…I’m not really hungry. I’ll just grab something from the vending machine.”

Patty’s eyes narrow at her. “Did y’all get in a fight or something? Is that why you’re being all weird?”

“What? No. We…don’t really talk much.”

Patty’s expression morphs into confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Erin shrugs in what she hopes is a blasé way. “It’s just been a while since we’ve spoken.”

“What’s ‘a while?’”

“Like, um…” Erin tugs at the buttons of her shirt, making sure they’re lined up straight. “Five years? Maybe? I don’t know.”

Patty shuts her laptop and leans forward like she thinks she’s misheard her. “What?”

At Erin’s silence, her mouth falls open.

“Girl. _Seriously?_ ”

“I said I don’t know,” Erin says. “ _Maybe_. That’s just…an estimate.”

It’s not, and Patty knows it. She shakes her head in disbelief.

Erin chews on her lip. “I should, um, probably go find some food and turn in for the night. I think Abby wants us to get started bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, alright,” Patty says, now just sounding sad. “Have a good night, Erin.”

Erin swallows. “See you tomorrow.”

Then she retreats from the room.

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2020

* * *

“I think I’m in love with you.”

There’s a long, painful pause.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” Holtz’s voice shakes imperceptibly.

“I…” Erin hangs her head. Her whole body trembles.

“I’m getting on a plane tomorrow,” Holtz says.

Erin’s chest burns. “I know. I just…I needed to say it.”

“Fuck, Erin.” Holtz runs her hand through her hair, looking at her sharply. “You’ve had four _years_ to say that.”

“I know.” Erin wrings her hands. “I just—you told me to give you a reason to stay, and I thought—”

“Yeah, but that was _six months_ ago. Where the hell was this back then?”

Erin’s voice shakes. “I don’t think I knew then. I don’t think I really knew until…”

“It’s too late,” Holtz says firmly.

Erin recoils like she’s been hit.

“It’s too late,” Holtz repeats, quieter, almost like she’s talking to herself. “I’m getting on a plane tomorrow. It’s too late.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Erin says in barely more than a whisper.

There’s another drawn-out pause.

“Yeah. It does.” Holtz takes a step back from her. “I’m sorry, Erin.”

She turns and walks away, and Erin watches her go, eyes stinging.

* * *

LYON, FRANCE: 2021

* * *

They’re walking along the bank of the Rhône, hands clasped and swinging between them.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Holtz squints at the sun setting over the river and contemplates the question.

“Yeah,” she says finally. “Once.” She glances sideways at her girlfriend. “Until I met you, of course.”

“Tell me more.”

Holtz directs her gaze back at the river.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “That’s ancient history now.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit longer of a chapter this time! And more angst. Of course.

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

Patty is fast asleep when the door flies open, waking her instantly and scaring the shit out of her.

“Rise and shine, losers, the apocalypse waits for no one,” Abby shouts.

Patty scrambles upright. “Jesus, Abby.”

Abby drops a dirty and mangled cardboard box at the foot of her bed. “I thought I said to be up and ready by 6:30.”

“And I thought I said that you were crazy,” Patty mutters.

Abby glances at the other bed. “Holtzmann,” she barks.

There’s a long, muffled groan, and then Holtz lifts her head.

“What do you want?”

Abby snaps her fingers. “Time to get up. We have work to do. Where’s Erin?”

“Downstairs,” Patty replies with a yawn.

“Getting breakfast?”

“No, she got her own room.” Patty gets up from the bed.

“Why the hell would she do that? What am I spending money on accommodations for, then?”

“I mean…” Patty looks around the room. “There wasn’t a place for her to sleep. So.”

Abby waves her hand dismissively. “Alright, well, I gotta run. I just wanted to drop that off. Can someone go get Erin up?”

Holtz has rolled to a seated position with her legs dangling, and is rubbing her eyes. “I’ll do it.”

“Great. I need the three of you back at HQ by 7:00.”

Patty shakes her head. “That’s not happening.”

Abby sighs. “Fine. 7:30.”

Holtz groans.

“Sure,” Patty says, eyes darting to Holtz, who gives her a discrete eye roll.

“I’m holding you to that,” Abby warns, then disappears from the room as fast as she came.

Holtz flops backwards on her bed with a dramatic sigh.

Patty reaches for the cardboard box that Abby brought, tugging it across the bedspread to get a closer look. She lifts the flaps.

“What’s in the box?” Holtz says.

Patty smiles down at it. “Come see for yourself.”

* * *

Erin opens her hotel room door to go find some breakfast and comes face to face with Holtz, whose hand is lifted to knock.

“Oh. Hey,” Holtz says in surprise.

“What are you—”

“Abby swung by,” Holtz says. “Dropped these off.”

Erin blinks and takes in what she’s looking at for the first time.

Holtz is wearing her old Ghostbusters coveralls, with every little tear and imperfection that Erin remembers from back in the day. The paint stain in the shape of Idaho beside her nameplate. The singed collar from one too many times getting friendly with a blowtorch. The tear on her left bicep from being thrown into a wall by a ghost, hard enough that she dislocated her shoulder. Erin sat beside her in the emergency room for three hours that night.

Then Erin registers that there’s another jumpsuit hanging over Holtz’s arm, which she’s extending in Erin’s direction.

“Is that mine?” she asks quietly.

Holtz nods.

A pause, then Erin clears her throat. “Um. Here, come in.”

“Thanks.” Holtz steps past her into the room.

Erin shuts the door behind her, shrugging her purse off her shoulder and hanging it off the doorknob.

“I guess I’ll…” She hesitantly takes the other set of coveralls from Holtz, weighing the familiar uniform in her hands.

Holtz shifts awkwardly, inching back towards the door. “You want to meet us upstairs?”

“Oh, um…you can…stay…if you want.”

Holtz stops. “Okay.”

There’s another pause.

“I’ll just…” Erin glances at the open door of the bathroom.

“Have fun.” Holtz looks over her shoulder.

Erin changes quickly, zipping up her jumpsuit, promptly remembering that her zipper sticks, which she’d forgotten about. The fabric smells stale, like it hasn’t been washed since she left.

Although, given the circumstances, she supposes she should be happy Abby kept it at all.

She exits the bathroom with her other clothes folded neatly over her arm.

“Looking sharp,” Holtz says, but she’s not looking at her. She’s sitting on the edge of Erin’s bed, hands clasped in her lap.

Erin places her clothes in her suitcase, then stops to study herself in the full-length mirror by the closet, smoothing down the wrinkles her jumpsuit. “Gosh, were these always so baggy?” she murmurs. “The kids would make fun of me if they saw me in this, guaranteed.”

Holtz’s head snaps up. “Kids?”

Erin glances at her. “Yeah. I have, um, a couple of stepchildren now.”

Holtz’s eyes widen. “Seriously? Whoa. What are their names?”

Erin straightens up. “Emersynn and Iliad.”

Holtz raises an eyebrow and lets out a low whistle. “Those are…something. I’m not even going to take a stab at genders there. How old?”

“Emersynn is six. Iliad is 13.”

Holtz gets up off the edge of the bed and wanders over. “You get along with them?”

A pause. Erin turns to face her. “Yes, of course.”

Holtz whistles again. “Wow. Stepmom Gilbert.”

“Stepmom Whitman,” Erin corrects nervously, fidgeting with her hands.

“Oh. Right.” Holtz blinks. “Erin Whitman. Erin _Whitman_. That’s weird.” She reaches out to touch the nameplate stitched across Erin’s jumpsuit. “Guess we’re gonna have to change this, huh?”

Her hand lingers there, settles flat against Erin’s chest for a moment.

Erin swallows. “I can be Gilbert again for a couple days.”

A beat. “Right. A couple days.” Holtz’s hand drops. She takes a step back. “I’ll be honest, I never thought you’d want to change your name. All that published work…the name you built for yourself in the scientific community…”

“I guess I don’t mind flying under the radar now,” Erin mumbles, staring at her feet.

Holtz pauses. “Really?”

Erin nods silently.

Holtz licks her lips. “Huh.”

Several seconds pass.

“What’s Mr. Whitman’s name?” Holtz asks.

Erin glances at her again. She’s looking off in the other direction, like she doesn’t really want to hear the answer.

“Theodore,” she says slowly.

Holtz looks at her now, quirking an eyebrow. “ _Theodore?_ Does he go by anything else? Ted or Teddy or Theo—”

“Just Theodore.”

“—or Dory or—”

“Dory isn’t a name.”

“Nemo would disagree with you there.”

Erin is in the middle of rolling her eyes when Holtz reaches out and grabs her left hand out of nowhere, lifting it up in front of her face.

She pushes her glasses up to the top of her head and squints at Erin’s rings.

“What’s that band made of?” She brings it up closer to her nose and sniffs. “Is that zirconium?”

Erin yanks her hand back. “I have no clue.”

“What kinda person doesn’t know what their wedding ring is made of?” Holtz shakes her head. “Get Theodore on the phone.”

“No.”

“I could find out in the lab if you want.”

Holtz tries to grab her hand again, but Erin pulls it away before she can.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

“Sheesh.” Holtz returns her glasses to the bridge of her nose again. “Don’t need to be so stingy.”

Erin crosses her arms.

Holtz nods at her hand. “I guess I never really said congrats. I probably shoulda sent a card or something.”

“It’s fine.”

“Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

Erin stares at her for a long moment. “So you did get the invitation?”

Holtz scratches her neck. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

“You never RSVPed, so I thought maybe I got your address wrong.”

“No, I got it. Sorry. I was just…busy.”

Erin lifts her chin and looks the other way. “It’s fine.”

“Did Abby and Patty go?”

Erin presses her lips together and doesn’t answer.

“I guess not,” Holtz says after a beat.

Erin rolls her shoulders back. “Patty was doing research in Portugal.”

“And Abby?”

“Abby holds grudges.” Erin’s eyes finally snap back to Holtz’s face. “What’s your excuse?”

Holtz’s face darkens.

“I don’t know,” she says.

* * *

MEYRIN, GENEVA, SWITZERLAND: 2023

* * *

“That came for you.”

Holtz shrugs off her jacket, tossing it over one of the chairs at the kitchen table, and picks up the envelope. It’s heavy, but not thick. Navy blue, with swooping gold calligraphy. No return address.

She moves her glasses to the top of her head and digs her thumb under the flap to tear the envelope open, then tugs out the single cardstock rectangle from within.

She stares at the words, not really understanding them.

“What is it?”

“It’s a save-the-date,” Holtz murmurs.

A pause. “Really? Who do you know that’s getting married?”

Holtz doesn’t respond, just shoves the card back into the envelope roughly and tosses it back onto the table where she doesn’t have to look at it anymore.

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

They’re waiting for the hotel elevator. Erin keeps tugging at the sleeves of her coveralls. She feels like they’ve gotten shorter—or her arms have gotten longer.

“So what does Theodore do?” Holtz only says his name with a little sarcasm.

Erin sniffs. “He’s a politician.”

Holtz makes a face. “Do they let politicians have genius wives, nowadays? I always thought it was like a requirement to have an IQ below 90.”

Erin’s face colours. “That’s very offensive.”

The elevator doors open with a ding. They step inside.

Holtz mashes the button for their floor. “Sorry. He must be a good guy if he can handle having a wife who’s so much smarter than him without being an insecure weenie about it. Especially as a politician.”

Erin grits her teeth and looks the other way.

A beat passes. “Wait. Erin. _Please_ tell me you’re not dumbing yourself down for this guy.”

Erin looks at her sharply. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t make comments about my marriage when you know nothing about it, Holtz.”

Holtz looks her over for a moment, then her face falls. “You are, aren’t you?” she whispers sadly. “Oh, Erin. I’m sorry.”

“Stop judging me.”

“I’m not. I’m just sad for you.”

“Don’t be,” Erin says in a clipped voice. “I told you, I don’t mind flying under the radar.”

The elevator doors open again. They step out.

“There’s a difference between flying under the radar and hiding who you are. What, doesn’t he know the kind of work you’re doing at Stanford? Doesn’t he know the career you’ve had? He _has_ to know you’re one of the smartest people in the world.”

Erin halts. “ _Enough_. We’re not talking about this any more. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Holtz crosses her arms. “Fine. Sorry for trying to help.”

She walks away in a huff down the hall, leaving Erin behind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I posting *too* frequently? Is there such a thing?

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2021

* * *

“Erin, what the _fuck_ is this?”

Erin looks up from her work just in time to have Abby shove the laptop at her. She catches it before it can hit the desk. It’s certainly seen better days—the duct tape holding it together is frayed and worn.

“The laptop?” Erin hazards.

“Don’t be an ass.” Abby jabs at the screen. “What the hell do you call this?”

Erin’s heart hammers in her throat as she takes in what she’s looking at and quickly tries to exit out of it. “Shoot—I didn’t mean to leave my email logged in—”

“ _Stanford_ , Erin? _Really?_ ”

Erin pales.

Abby snatches the laptop from her. “How long has this been going on?”

Erin plays dumb. “What do you mean?”

“How long have you been applying for jobs?”

Erin looks at her hands. “I don’t know.”

She does know, though. She can pinpoint it to the month.

Abby stares her down with a death glare, but when she speaks, her voice waivers.

“So what? That’s it? You’re going?”

Erin’s chest aches. “Abby…”

“You promised.” Abby’s voice cracks on the word.

“I know.” Erin’s eyes fill with tears.

“How could you _do_ this to me? _Again?_ ”

“I never meant to hurt you, Abby. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I’m so sorry.”

Abby slams the laptop shut and throws it roughly at Erin’s desk with a loud crack of plastic breaking. “Save it for someone who cares.”

“Abby, please—”

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

“You know it hasn’t been the same since Patty left. And…and Holtz.” Erin says her name quietly, voice shaking.

“So you decided to abandon me. I get it.”

“It’s not like that—”

“I said I don’t want to hear it, okay, Erin?” Abby shouts. “Just go.”

Several long seconds pass, silent except for the sound of them breathing.

Erin’s hands tremble as she gathers up the papers she was writing on and shoves them into her briefcase.

Abby doesn’t say anything, just watches her pack up.

Erin stops a few paces from her desk and turns, opening and closing her mouth.

“Just go,” Abby repeats, quieter this time.

She’s trying to sound tough, but Erin knows her best friend better than anyone on the planet. She can see that nearly imperceptible tremor of her bottom lip.

Erin hangs her head, turns, and slinks away.

“Are you going to lunch, Erin?” Kevin asks perkily. “When will you be back? I’ll write it on the board.”

She pauses by his desk. “No,” she says. “I’m not coming back, Kev.”

* * *

PARIS, FRANCE: 2021

* * *

Patty hurries through the train station, then spots her and lets out a loud scream, breaking into a run.

She tackle-hugs her, rocking her back and forth. “Yessss!”

Holtz pulls back, a wide grin on her face. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Her grad students catch up to her. Vihaan is lugging Patty’s suitcase along with his own, and Latoria is out of breath from running.

Patty does a quick round of introductions. The students are a little star-struck at meeting Dr. Jillian Holtzmann—they’ve heard all the stories.

The four of them make their way to the hotel, where Patty gets the students settled and then sends them out with their gear—they have interviews booked for the rest of the day. She’ll join them later, but for now, her only priority is catching up with her friend.

They sit across from each other in a very Parisian café, and Patty leans forward across the table.

“So? Tell me everything.”

The corner of Holtz’s mouth hooks up mischievously. “Like what?”

“How is it? How’s Switzerland?”

“It’s…really great, actually.” Holtz scratches her neck. “I love my job. I work with the coolest people ever.”

“I’m gonna pretend I’m not offended by that.”

Holtz chuckles. “Second-coolest. Sorry. You’ll always be number one. But yeah. It’s really, really great.”

“You look good, baby. Europe suits you.”

“Pssh. What about you?” Holtz gestures at her. “You look like you were born for this. Couple of grad students on your arm and everything. How’s the research going?”

“It’s awesome,” Patty says. “It’s like a dream come true. We’ve been able to gather so much already—the archive is massive, and we’re only just gettin’ started. We spent the last three weeks in Edinburgh and got some great shit.”

“That’s sweet. Where you heading next? I’ve got the memory of a wombat.”

“I don’t know enough about wombats to know if that’s true.” Patty picks up her croissant. “Venice is next. Poveglia Island is calling my name.”

Holtz slumps back in her chair with a delighted sigh. “You really are living the dream.”

Patty studies her, the blissed-out expression on her face, the flower that’s inexplicably tucked behind her ear where there would usually be a pencil.

“So…” she says slowly. “Anything new going on with you?”

Holtz’s smile stretches. “Nothing really.” She pauses. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

And there it is.

“I knew it,” Patty says, concealing her shock. “Since when?”

Holtz shrugs one shoulder. “I met her pretty much right away—like in my first week—but we didn’t start officially dating until about a month after that.”

Patty whistles. “You wasted no time, huh?”

Holtz laughs, but it’s hollow. “Yeah. She’s…really great. I’m really happy.”

“Am I gonna get to meet this woman?”

“Well…” Holtz shifts in her seat. “She’s kinda in the city already. So yeah, I was hoping you could.”

Patty lifts an eyebrow. “She live here?”

“No, she…came with me.”

Patty lifts her other eyebrow. “You’re already at ‘vacationing in other countries’ status?”

“Less of a big deal in Europe,” Holtz mumbles. “Also, that’s lesbians for you.”

Patty snorts. “Well, I’m happy for you, man.”

The smile is back. “Thanks, Patty.”

“By the way,” Patty says casually, “did you hear about Erin?”

Holtz’s brow furrows. “No, what’s going on?”

“She took a job at Stanford.”

Holtz’s frown deepens. “She’s moving to California? That’s a long way.”

“Oh, and Switzerland wasn’t?”

Holtz’s mouth ticks up. “You know what I mean.”

“So I guess y’all don’t talk much?”

Holtz drums her fingers on the table. “Not really. I’m just so busy with work, you know.”

Patty hums, unconvinced. “Sure. So she doesn’t know about your girlfriend?”

Holtz hesitates. “No.”

Patty hums again.

They sit there in silence for a minute.

Patty stretches her arms overhead. “So, you wanna join us in the Catacombs this afternoon?”

“Boy do I _ever_.”


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

They let themselves in to Abby’s lab.

Holtz, for one, has no problem calling it a lab. Not everybody agrees. Erin was muttering about it the whole way over.

Nobody paid them much attention on the subway, even with their Ghostbusters uniforms, which strikes Holtz as a little depressing. She had at least been hoping for some attention, some sort of public excitement about their return.

Nada.

Kevin is behind the desk, reading a magazine.

“Kev, I didn’t know you could read,” Holtz says cheerfully. “You pick that up since I’ve been gone?”

He looks up. “Oh, I’m just looking at the photos of me.”

Patty raises her eyebrows. “You’re in there?”

Holtz peers over the top of the magazine at the spread he’s looking at. “Uh…that’s definitely not y—”

“You guys took forever,” Abby says, stepping into the living room, her assistant following close behind. “What, you get lost? Been that long since you’ve been in the city, huh?”

All three of them ignore the dig.

“Good morning to you too, Abs,” Holtz says.

Patty claps her hands together. “So. Where do we start? You gonna brief us on the situation?”

“Boooriiing,” Holtz groans. “I just wanna get my hands dirty. Where’s our gear?”

Abby huffs. “Erin, get the box.”

Erin lifts her head. “What box?”

Abby rolls her eyes. “Not you. Real Aaron.”

Erin’s mouth falls open. “How is _he_ the real one?”

Abby ignores her. “Aaron, the box?”

“You got it, boss,” Aaron says.

“This is gonna get real confusing real fast,” Patty says.

“Fine,” Abby says with another huff. “Aaron can be Aaron and Erin can be Erin-with-an-E.”

“For everything you want?” Holtz says under her breath.

Erin gives her a look. “Why can’t _I_ be Erin, and _he_ can be Aaron-with-an-A? I was here first.”

Abby sucks her teeth. “And then you left. See how that works?”

Erin rolls her eyes and mutters something that sounds a lot like ‘drama queen.’

“You can call me A-Dawg if you desire,” Aaron says, digging out another beat-up cardboard box from a delightful pile of junk behind the couch. “Friends most familiar with me call me by that name.”

Patty frowns, then looks at him. “Huh?”

“It’s a colloquial nickname,” he says, setting the box down on the kitchen counter.

“You’re weird, man,” Patty says, still squinting at him.

Holtz skips over to the box to investigate. “What do we got here?”

She lifts the flaps and begins rifling through, then looks up slowly when she realizes what she’s touching.

“Abby. What did you do to my babies?”

Abby crosses her arms. “I did what needed to be done.”

“You _killed_ them,” Holtz says, gently lifting out some mangled parts and cradling them to her chest.

“They died of natural causes,” Abby says, “and then I harvested them for parts. They donated their bodies to science.”

Holtz picks through the remains of her poor children. “Is this all that’s left?”

Abby strides across the living room and lifts a tarp covering a small dining table, exposing a familiar machine beneath it. “This is the last one. I kept it going as long as I could, but it died a few weeks back.”

Holtz joins her, stroking the side of the proton pack. “Did you put up a good fight, darling?” she whispers to it.

“I don’t even know whose that one was, originally, but it’s a Frankenpack now,” Abby says.

“It’s Erin’s,” Holtz says automatically.

She doesn’t miss the glance that Erin and Patty share over by Kevin’s desk.

Holtz coughs and straightens up. “What happened to my Faraday cages?”

“All nonessential parts were stripped and sold,” Abby says grimly.

Holtz’s eyes widen in horror. “You did _what?_ ”

Abby’s face is made of stone. “Listen, when you lose all funding because your team disbands and leaves you high and dry, you have to resort to desperate measures to keep in business.”

Holtz runs her tongue along her teeth. “Yeah, alright, fair point.” She cracks her knuckles. “This is fine. I can work with this. I’d rather start from scratch anyway.” She pokes the carcass on the table. “These things are a joke anyway. I mean, come on, do you _see_ how big they are?” She scoffs. “Amateur.”

“Are you talking about yourself?” Patty says.

“Of course. I was but a child then.”

“You built the last round of packs _right_ before you left,” Erin points out.

“An _infant_ ,” Holtz declares.

* * *

“This is what we’re looking at so far.” Abby stands in front of the giant maps taped to the wall. “These are all the instances of paranormal activity that have been cropping up over the past few months. Activity in the city has been escalating at a scary-fast pace, but what’s more concerning is the number of out-of-state calls I’ve gotten.”

The maps—one of New York, the other of the whole country—are littered with red pins.

“Is there any sort of pattern?” Erin asks, taking notes on her notepad.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” Abby says. “I haven’t been able to find anything.”

Erin straightens her spine. “Have you checked for ley lines?”

“Oh, gosh, wow, ley lines? What a great idea, Erin! Golly, why didn’t I think to check for ley lines?”

“Erin-with-an-E,” Holtz quips from across the room, where she’s flying around, collecting parts.

Erin sinks down into the couch. “Alright, I get it.”

Abby plants her hands on her hips. “Of course I checked for ley lines, genius. There’s no matches. Any that fall on them appear to be coincidental. Trust me, I’ve spent weeks analyzing data. There’s no pattern at all. It’s completely random.”

“He’s using the archive.”

Silence.

All three of them look at Patty.

“Your archive?” Erin asks.

“Yeah. Hold on.” Patty pulls out her tablet and taps on it for a minute, then turns the screen towards them to expose an interactive map of New York. “Look familiar?”

Holtz darts over, hanging over the back of the couch to look over Erin’s shoulder. She whistles. “Oh, damn.”

Erin looks back and forth between Patty’s map and Abby’s. Every marker is in an identical location.

Patty taps out of that screen and pulls up another map of the country.

“What were you just saying about ‘completely random,’ Abby?”

Abby mashes her lips together.

“Okay, yeah, you could be onto something there.”

They all exchange grim looks.

A loud ringing breaks them from their discovery, and they all flinch.

Erin scrambles to retrieve her phone from the pocket of her blazer, fumbling it out and peering at the screen.

The others stare at the phone with fear.

“Who is it?” Patty whispers.

Erin scans the lawyer’s name and quickly declines the call. “I don’t know. Random number.”

Abby looks over her shoulder and reaches behind her for a laptop. “Hold on, I can trace it.”

“No!” Erin blurts.

Now they’re looking at her like she’s crazy.

“I do know who it is,” she says quickly. “It’s fine. Don’t trace it.”

Abby’s brow furrows. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing,” Erin says. “Nothing that concerns you or what we’re doing here.”

Abby looks unsatisfied with that answer, but Holtz is the one who really looks concerned.

Erin hopes she didn’t get a glimpse of the screen.

It’s really better for everyone if they don’t know.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again staying up too late to finish/post a chapter of this fic, whoops!

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin is sitting on the arm of the couch in Abby’s apartment after moving as much junk out of the way as she could. Holtz clearly has no such qualms about the clutter; she’s sitting cross-legged on the floor amongst it all, working with her head bent.

“Do you think it’s going to take you long to rebuild everything?” Erin asks conversationally.

Holtz doesn’t look up. “Why, you in a hurry to go bust some ghosts?”

Erin shifts. “No, I’m just…wondering. If it’s going to be a lot of work for you.”

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Erin bites her lip. “No.”

She glances over her shoulder at Abby and Patty, who are adding blue pins to the maps to mark out all the other notable haunted sites from Patty’s paranormal history archive in an effort to predict Rowan’s next moves.

“It’s pretty crazy about the archive,” she says.

Holtz finally lifts her head. “Look, Erin, you don’t have to do this. Just stop.”

Erin shrinks back. “What?”

Holtz gestures at her. “I know you’re mad at me. You don’t have to pretend like everything’s fine.”

“I…” Erin twists her hands. “I’m not mad at you.”

Holtz looks back down at the skeletal remains of what used to be Erin’s proton pack. “I shouldn’t have picked a fight with you this morning.”

“You didn’t—”

“I just…” Holtz licks her lips and sighs with frustration. “I still…care about you.”

Erin digs her nail into the pad of her thumb.

Holtz twirls a screwdriver in her grease-covered hands. “And I don’t like to think about you being with…”

There are several seconds of silence.

Holtz scratches her ear. “Someone who doesn’t deserve you. I guess.”

Erin swallows. “You don’t even know Theodore.”

“I know.” Holtz doesn’t meet her eyes. “Which is why I’m sorry that I said anything. It’s not my place.”

“No. It’s not.”

Holtz runs her tongue along her teeth and sets the screwdriver down on top of the pack, then looks up. “Really I’m just…sorry. Sorry that I wasn’t there for your wedding.” She glances at Abby and Patty. “Sorry that _none_ of us were.” She looks back at Erin, eyes pained. “It was your wedding. We should’ve been there.”

Erin’s eyes sting. “It’s okay.”

Holtz shakes her head. “No, it’s not. Regardless of…everything. We should have been there. _I_ should have been there.”

Erin doesn’t know what to say, so she just nods, chest aching.

* * *

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK, USA: 2016

* * *

Erin doubles over with laughter. “Holtz, you made water come out my nose,” she wheezes.

Across from her in the booth, Holtz grins, pleased with herself. She loves it when she makes Erin laugh. “I cannot be held accountable for such an occurrence.”

Erin is still laughing. Her eyes sparkle with tears. “I hate you.”

“Love you too, Gilbert,” Holtz says, reaching to swipe some fries off Erin’s plate, her stomach flipping.

“Hey, those are mine!” Erin leans forward across the table, trying to snatch them back.

Holtz shoves them in her mouth. “Too late,” she says.

Erin catches her wrist anyway, her knobbly fingers closing around it loosely. “Now I’ve got you.”

Holtz’s stomach is performing a whole damn Cirque show.

She twists her wrist, breaking Erin’s hold, a reflex from years of martial arts and self-defence classes, and in one smooth motion flips their hands so they’re interlaced.

“Or do I have you?” she counters.

It might be her imagination, but she swears Erin’s cheeks pink under the unflattering diner lights.

She’s never looked more beautiful.

“Excuse me, are you Ghostbusters?” a young voice says.

Holtz tears her gaze away from Erin to look at the kid standing by the booth.

“Yeah, we are,” Erin says proudly, but as she says it, she slips her hand from Holtz’s and hides it below the table, out of reach.

One of the aerial acrobats misses their mark and plummets dramatically.

The kid’s eyes are wide. “Is it true that you just saved the world from ghosts?”

“We sure did,” Holtz says in an even voice. “And don’t you forget it, even when the stupid government tries to pretend that—”

“Holtz.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “Yeah. We saved the world. And we’ll do it again if we have to.”

Erin nods slowly in her peripherals, eyes glued to her.

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2018

* * *

Patty holds her phone’s front-facing camera up, using it as a mirror while she reapplies her lipstick.

“So where are you two going?” Erin asks from her desk opposite Patty’s.

She finishes with her lipstick and returns it to her desk drawer, setting her phone down. “Some restaurant. He made the reservation.”

Erin bobs her head. “Cool, cool. Are you excited?”

“S’just a date.” She shrugs. “Not that exciting.”

Erin makes some sort of face.

Patty watches her carefully. “Sorry. Guess it’s been a while for you, huh?”

Erin’s face colours. “I…I guess…”

“How long?”

Erin ducks her head, fidgeting with her hands. “A couple years.”

Patty stares at her, then shakes her head. “I don’t get it. You’re smart, funny, hot, a Ghostbuster…”

“I think the last one’s actually a deterrent,” Erin mumbles.

“Whatever. You must have folks jumping all over you. You holdin’ out for someone, or something?” Her eyes flick to Holtz, who’s bustling around in front of the containment unit.

Erin doesn’t seem to notice. Her gaze is fixed on her desk. “No. I don’t know. It’s just hard. I haven’t really found anyone I’ve clicked with, not like…”

She trails off.

The flurry of motion over by the containment unit slows.

Erin looks up at Patty, rolling her shoulders back. “Do you know anyone you could set me up with?”

There’s an earsplitting crash.

Both of them jump, heads turning to the containment unit.

“Holtzy, please tell me that wasn’t a ‘need to evacuate the building immediately’ crash,” Patty calls.

“Everything’s fine,” Holtz calls back, voice robotic.

Patty shakes her head and looks back at Erin.

“Are you, uh…sure? You want to be set up?”

“Yeah, I’m—” Erin sighs irritatedly and looks over her shoulder at the series of loud noises as Holtz attempts to clean up whatever she dropped. She turns back, nose flaring. “Yeah, I’m ready. Do you know anybody?”

“Uhhh…” Patty’s eyes flicker to Holtz again. “Men? Or…”

Erin makes a face. “Yes, men. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Patty repeats dryly.

Erin taps her pen impatiently as the commotion continues on the other side of the lab. “So? Anybody?”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh…get back to you.”

“Sure, of course, no rush.” Erin’s nose wrinkles again and her head whips around. “Does she have to be so loud?”

“She’s clearly not being loud enough,” Patty mutters to herself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly. She makes eye contact with Holtz for a brief second. “Nothing at all.”

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

Holtz phone rings in her pocket.

She fishes it out with one hand, not needing to look at the call display. She answers and props it between her ear and shoulder without breaking from her work.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?”

There’s a disgruntled sigh from the other end.

She realizes her mistake a second later.

“Shit. Sorry. I forgot to call again. That’s my bad.”

“You better have a good reason for it. You stopped this alleged apocalypse yet?”

Holtz looks over the dismantled machine in front of her. “Uh. Not quite. We haven’t even gotten started, really. Still trying to figure out exactly what’s going on and what to do about it. Plus all our gear is toast so I need to—”

“Kay, well, you said it was going to be a few days. Is that still true?”

“Uhhhh…” Holtz glances up at Erin. “Maybe a little longer.”

An irritated tongue click. “Fine.”

Holtz runs a hand through her hair. “Sorry for not calling. Really. I’ve just been busy and—”

“I have to go. I’ve got a meeting.”

Holtz’s lower lip juts out. “With _Katya?”_

“Oh, not this shit again. I’m hanging up.”

“Fine. Love you.”

The line goes dead.

Holtz glances at her phone screen and rolls her eyes. “Nice,” she says.

“You got grease in your hair,” a soft voice says.

She looks up at Erin. “Oh. Whoops.” She pockets her phone again and shrugs, picking up her tools. “I’m used to it.”

She gets back to work, but she can feel Erin watching her.

“Who was that?” Erin asks after a minute has passed.

Holtz wets her lips and keeps working. “My girlfriend.”

There’s a long pause.

“Oh,” Erin says. “What’s her name?”

Her voice is fake-sounding, like a terrible actor.

“Um. Genevieve.” Holtz reaches for a nearby box filled with odds and ends and rifles through it.

“You’re dating someone named Genevieve in Geneva?”

“Yep.” Holtz pops the P.

“I guess she’s French?”

“Nope. Australian.”

Silence. She looks up to see that Erin is squinting at her like she can’t figure out if she’s joking or not.

“Have you been together long?” she asks casually, but it sounds forced.

Holtz can’t find what she’s looking for in the box of parts, and shoves it away. She’s going to have to go dumpster diving later. “Six years.”

Erin makes something of a choking noise. “Oh. Are you planning on—I mean, is it…serious, then?”

Holtz glances up. “We’re not getting married, if that’s what you’re asking. Not my thing.”

“Oh,” Erin says. It’s all she appears to be capable of saying. This time, she sounds relieved.

“But it’s serious,” Holtz says, holding her gaze.

“Okay,” Erin says. “What does she, um, do? Does she work with you at CERN?”

“She’s an Australian diplomat. She works with the UN.”

Erin blinks. “Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah, it’s…pretty cool I guess.” Holtz rips out a section of wires. “But she’s going to move back to Australia this year. Her job is pretty stressful and she’s looking for a change of pace. Plus, she misses home.”

“Oh.” Erin’s brow furrows. “I imagine that’ll be tough on you.”

Holtz raises an eyebrow. “Erin, I would move with her.”

Silence.

“What?”

“I’m moving with her.”

“To Australia?”

“Yes.”

“But what about…”

“I’ll find other work,” Holtz says.

One look at Erin’s face tells her that’s not what she was going to say at all.

“Australia is so far,” Erin says quietly.

“It’s closer to California than it is to here,” Holtz says, equally as quiet.

They’re both silent.

“When?” Erin asks in the smallest voice possible.

Holtz clears her throat, fixing her eyes on her hands. “December.”

“December,” Erin repeats. “That’s only a few months away.”

Holtz pauses.

“Yeah. I know.”

She can feel Erin staring at her.

“I should go help those guys,” she says, voice shaking slightly. She picks herself up from the couch.

Holtz watches her go, then picks up her screwdriver again, hand trembling.

* * *

QUEENS, NEW YORK, USA: 2020

* * *

Holtz watches the runway zip past outside the tiny window, hands clenched around the arm rests of her seat, and everything is moving too fast, the lights of the city blurring in the dark.

“I have to get off this plane,” she says through gritted teeth.

The woman sitting next to her gives her a look.

“I have to get off this plane,” she repeats, louder.

“I think it’s too late for that,” the woman says.

“It’s not too late,” Holtz says. “It can’t be too late.”

But the nose of the plane lifts from the ground.

And it’s too late.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2019

* * *

“You know what? Screw her.” Abby slams an empty shot glass down on the bar.

“Screw her,” Holtz echoes, throwing back her own shot and coughing.

Erin shifts her weight. “Shouldn’t we be happy for her?”

“No.” Abby jabs a finger at her. “You, of anyone, know the consequences of abandoning Abigail L. Yates. It’s unforgivable.”

“It’s unforgivable,” Holtz repeats, tripping over the word. She mimes dropping a mic.

Erin has lost count of how many drinks they’ve consumed between the two of them. It’s a lot, she knows that. She herself tapped out an hour ago. It wasn’t making her feel any better, and she realized that someone definitely needed to be the sober one and look out for them.

It used to be Patty who didn’t drink, who took care of them, who made sure they got home safely.

A pang goes through Erin. She pulls her phone from her pocket to check for new messages. There’s nothing since the one from earlier, letting her know that she arrived safely to Chicago.

Abby slings an arm around Holtz’s shoulders, causing her to stagger.

“You guys would never do this to me,” Abby says. “You guys _will_ never do this to me.”

“Never, never, never,” Holtz crows.

“You’re _not_ allowed to leave me. You have to promise. _Promise_ , Erin,” Abby barks, swaying slightly.

Abby can drink them all under the table, and can hold her liquor better than anyone Erin has ever met, so to see her coming unhinged like this is telling of just how deeply she’s hurting.

“I promise,” Erin says, reaching over to catch Holtz as she stumbles sideways.

“Holtzmann, you _have_ to promise,” Abby says aggressively.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Holtz mumbles, closing her eyes.

“Alright,” Erin says briskly, “I think it’s time to go home.”

“No,” Abby says. “We’re not done.”

“You might not be, but Holtz definitely is,” Erin says.

Holtz opens her eyes and smiles blindingly at her. “Erin’s right. I gotta—I gotta take her home.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Don’t worry Erin. I’m gonna take you home. I’ll walk you home. I’m gonna—I’m a gentlefolk, Erin. I’ll make sure you get home alright. Erin—”

“Okay, okay. Come here.” Erin lets Holtz slump against her. “Abby, come on.”

“No. Bartender?” Abby waves.

“Please don’t serve her any more,” Erin mutters to the bartender, who nods. “It’s time to go home, Abby. Come on. I’ll get you in a cab.”

Abby grumbles, kicking the floor dramatically, but follows them out of the bar.

Erin hails a taxi for Abby, shoving her inside it and giving the driver explicit instructions to take her to her apartment address and not to another bar. She hands him a wad of bills that will be more than enough to cover the fare, then sends them on their way.

She hails a second cab to repeat the process with Holtz.

Holtz sweeps grandly at the open door. “After you, m’Erin.”

“No, Holtz, this one is for you.”

“Nonononononono,” Holtz says. “I’m making sure you get home. You’re drunk.”

Erin hesitates, then sighs, knowing that it would be easier to argue with a log at this point. “Fine. Alright.”

Inside the car, the cabbie glances in the rearview mirror at them, nose wrinkling at Holtz. “Where to?”

Holtz leans forward. “Good sir. Please take us forth to Erin’s apartment. Do you know where that is?”

“Ignore her,” Erin says. “We’re heading to…”

She trails off, glancing at Holtz, realizing all of a sudden that she’s moved so many times in recent years that she no longer knows where she lives. And she’s pretty sure Holtz hasn’t updated her ID with her latest address—she’s only been there a few months.

“Damn it,” she says under her breath, and then gives the cabbie her own address.

* * *

“Here we are,” Erin says outside her building. “You walked me home. Thanks Holtz. Now can I get you a cab home?”

“Nuh uh uh,” Holtz says, wagging her finger. “This isn’t your apartment.”

“It’s just upstairs.”

“I have to walk you to your _door_.”

“Of course you do,” Erin mutters. It was worth a shot.

Holtz is a dead weight as Erin hauls her up the stairs, wishing desperately that the building’s only elevator hadn’t broken down earlier in the week.

She unlocks her apartment door, ushering Holtz inside.

Holtz lets out a long whistle. “You’re the 1%, Gilbert.”

“I’m really not. Also, you’ve been here before.” Erin fills a cup with water and presses it into Holtz’s hands. “Drink that.”

Holtz takes a noisy slurp and sets it on the counter loudly.

Erin looks at her and sighs. “I guess I’ll get out the spare bedding.”

“Bed. Yes. Let’s get you tucked in nice and tight like a bug in a Snuggie.”

“That is not the expression.” Erin heads into her bedroom, Holtz trailing behind her like a puppy. She retrieves her storage boxes from under the bed and pulls out a set of clean sheets and a spare pillow.

When she stands and turns, Holtz is right there, inches from her.

“Do I get to stay here?”

Erin rolls her eyes. “Yes, Holtz.”

“Giiiilbeeerrrt! I love you.”

Erin tries to step around her. “Yeah. Love you too.”

“No.” Holtz stops her, one hand coming up to grab her bicep. “Erin. Erin. I _mean_ it. You don’t even know. I _love_ you.” She falls forward a little. She lifts her other hand, index finger in front of her lips. “Shhhh. You can’t tell. Erin can’t find out because it’ll ruin _everything_.”

Erin hugs the spare bedding tighter to her body. “What are you talking about?” she says in barely more than a whisper.

“Patty said that I should just _say it_ , she said ‘ _say it!’_ but I didn’t say it—she left, Patty left, you know—so she’s—I love you, Erin. Erin—I’m not supposed to tell you. Shhhhhhhhhh.”

“You should go to sleep,” Erin says, voice shaking.

“Yessss.” Holtz steps away from her. “Let’s get you snug as a bug in a Snug—”

“You already said—hey!”

Holtz has flopped down over the bed, face-down.

“Holtz. There’s a…couch,” Erin finishes quietly, far too late for it to have any impact.

She sighs again, goes to deposit the spare bedding on the couch, and then comes back. She rolls Holtz onto her side so at least she won’t choke if she vomits, and then she grabs her pajamas from her dresser.

She doesn’t make the couch up, just sits at the end of it and pulls her knees up to her chest, and she sits like that for a long time.

* * *

MEYRIN, GENEVA, SWITZERLAND: 2020

* * *

It’s been less than a week, and Holtz still doesn’t feel like she’s really here.

Maybe it’s the fact that she’s living in a new city, in a new country, on a new continent. Maybe it’s the fact that there was a hiccup with her housing plans, so she’s living in a hotel room. Maybe it’s the fact that everyone at CERN seems to be looking to her for answers, when really she has no clue what she’s doing.

Maybe it’s the fact that she’s 3,852 miles from the one place she wants to be. 3,852 miles from everything she knows.

3,852 miles from the biggest mistake of her life.

And all she wants to do is be able to put in her goddamn coffee order in French, even though she knows it’s not necessary, even though she’s holding up the line, even though none of it matters, not one bit.

There’s a tap on her shoulder.

“Excuse me, are you going to order?”

She’s ready to abandon this whole thing. Screw coffee. Screw CERN. Screw Switzerland. She needs to fix this. There has to be a way.

But first she needs to get the fuck out of this place.

She whirls around, fighting back tears, and comes face-to-face with a woman.

Holtz’s gaze flickers down over her brown tweed blazer, then back up to her face. Her eyes. Blue.

“Whoa,” the woman says, taking her in. “Are you okay?”

An Australian accent bends her words.

Holtz is sure she must look as crazed as she feels. Her chest heaves. She stares.

The woman’s expression softens. “Can I help? My name is Genevieve.”

A second or two passes.

Holtz extends her hand. “Jillian.”


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

Holtz spends the better part of a week rebuilding and replenishing their ghost-fighting arsenal while the others sit around waiting for her, clearly getting antsier by the minute. They concoct somewhat of a plan.

Patty is going to add a new location to her archive, some spot that she’s been researching anyway, and then they’re going to stake it out and see if anything happens there.

It’s not the worst plan, but they’re also sort of missing the element of surprise considering they’re dealing with someone who could be listening in on them right now. Holtz isn’t very optimistic that they’ll witness anything of interest.

Despite her doubt, she finishes up with the gear and presents it to her teammates.

“These look amazing,” Erin murmurs, fingers trailing over the body of her new pack.

“Better than the last pieces of crap,” Holtz says. “So, we ready to set up the sting?”

Erin blinks with surprise. “Don’t we need to, um, go test them? Or something?”

Holtz eyes her. “Erin, I work at CERN. I don’t need to test things anymore. They’re safe.”

Erin opens and closes her mouth, giving a little nod.

* * *

STANFORD, CALIFORNIA, USA: 2022

* * *

“I admit I was a little surprised that you wanted to see me again,” Erin says, pushing around the salad on her plate without really eating any. She’s very conscious of the photographers lurking outside the window of the restaurant, and the discreet smartphones propped up on tables.

Theodore saws at his steak robotically. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I just…you know.” Erin steers a single piece of lettuce into her mouth, chews it for upwards of thirty seconds, then swallows. She takes a sip of water before continuing. “I figured your PR people or campaign manager or _someone_ would have looked me up, and I guess I’m just not used to people not seeing my old line of work as something to be ashamed of.”

He doesn’t even look up at her. “What are you referring to?”

She hesitates. “Well…my work in New York. I…I told you about it last time, didn’t I?”

“I don’t think so,” he says carefully.

She wets her lips, wondering if she’s better off dropping it. “Well, I…” She lowers her voice. “I was a researcher, studying the paranormal…”

“No,” he says, “you’re thinking of someone else.”

She opens and closes her mouth, brow creasing. “What? No…no, I did it for five years, and—”

“You’re mistaken. That wasn’t you.”

“Yes,” she says, a little more forcefully, “it was.”

“Erin,” he says, looking up at her finally. “You are mistaken. That wasn’t you. That was another woman named Erin Gilbert.” He tilts his head ever-so-slightly to the side. “Do you see how easy that is?”

She shrinks back, her cheeks burning as she realizes what he’s saying.

He’s still waiting expectantly.

“Yes,” she says finally, in a small voice. “I see.”

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

Patty has her tablet on her lap, and her phone on speaker beside her.

“Sending the data transfer file… _now_ ,” her grad student says through the phone.

There’s a chime and a notification pops up on the tablet, alerting Patty that she has a new entry to review and approve. She skims it over, making sure that everything looks right, and then taps to approve it.

“Alright,” she says, “61st Street is live. Let’s roll out.”

Patty is staked out in a coffee shop, along with Abby, who has her laptop open to her Ghost News website. Patty has her own laptop on the table in front of her, streaming live feeds from the body cams on Erin and Holtz. The two of them exited the coffee shop with their gear five minutes ago and split off into opposite directions so they could loop around to the location of the newly archived spot.

“Holtz, can you feel that?” Erin says, her voice coming through the Bluetooths in Patty and Abby’s ears.

“Ooh baby,” Holtz says, voice a little crackly. She warned them that some of the extra equipment she’s carrying might interfere with signals. She smacks her lips. “Dat ionization, doh.”

“I’d say it just increased threefold after the listing went live,” Erin says.

“I’d say fourfold,” Holtz says. “Maybe even fivefold.”

Erin sighs.

“What can you see?” Abby reaches over to zoom in Erin’s camera.

“Not much. I’m not in the greatest position,” Erin says. “Oh wait—”

“Check out that glow,” Holtz says.

“The building definitely has a glow that wasn’t there a few seconds ago,” Erin says. “Can you see it with the camera?”

“Not yet,” Patty says. “What are your readings like?”

Erin holds up her PKE meter in front of her torso so they can see the screen. “Climbing steadily.”

“I’m going to get closer,” Holtz announces.

“Be careful,” Erin says.

The camera jostles as Holtz creeps closer to the building. Now they can definitely see the blue glow coming from the windows and doors. It just seems to be getting brighter with every passing second.

“Come on, ghosties. It’s been a dog’s age. Lemme see those beautiful faces.”

“Don’t antagonize them,” Erin says.

“Should I go inside?” Holtz asks.

“No,” Erin and Patty say, but Abby says “yes.”

“Only needed one,” Holtz says. “I’m doing it.”

“No, Holtz, don’t—”

Holtz ignores Erin and sneaks up the side of the building towards the door, pausing for a moment, and then scampering up the steps. She cautiously touches the doorknob like she’s checking for a fire, and then turns it.

The door flies open with a bang, and suddenly there’s a flash of blue and dozens of ghosts burst out. Holtz yelps and stumbles backwards.

“Holtz!” Erin’s camera shows the steady stream of apparitions swarming out of the building. She starts off running, the frame bouncing and blurring.

Holtz’s camera shakes, too, as she fumbles for her gear.

“Hold your fire!” Abby shouts, standing abruptly.

The other patrons of the coffee shop all turn their heads.

“Just get out of there,” Patty commands, but she’s already up and out of her seat, racing for the door, tablet still in her hand.

Outside, she can see ghosts streaming into the sky from the next street over.

Abby falls into place beside her, holding the laptop with the video feeds, which are buffering from the weak wifi signal.

Patty glances at her. “So, is this the kind of ‘increase in paranormal activity’ that you’re talking about, Abs?”

Abby looks up at the sky, face grim. “That’s it, alright.”

* * *

STANFORD, CALIFORNIA, USA: 2025

* * *

Erin stands next to him on the stage, resisting the urge to scratch under the collar of this itchy wool monstrosity she’s dressed in. Flashbulbs go off in her face.

“Better education will be one of the pillars of my campaign,” he says to the hoard of microphones in front of him. “It’s always been something I’ve felt strongly about, but it’s become especially important to me now.” His hand rests stiffly on Erin’s lower back and he gives her a fake smile for the cameras. “Erin here actually teaches science. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

She falters, but her own fake smile doesn’t waver. “Well,” she says with a nervous laugh, “actually I—”

But he’s already talking over her, continuing on with his speech.

She shuts up.

It’s not a lie, to say she teaches science. She _does_ teach science. And it’s not insulting to reduce ‘professor of particle physics at Stanford’ to ‘science teacher.’ It’s all about relating to the masses, using simple language.

So she shuts up.


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

Holtz appears in front of Erin holding a bag of ice from the machine down the hall, which she passes to her. Erin takes it and settles it over her knee, grimacing. She tripped while she was retreating back to the coffee shop. She already has a nasty purple bruise forming.

Abby and Patty are holed up in the other room upstairs, going over the footage and readings from earlier. They’re back at the hotel after deciding that they all needed to freshen up after the events of the morning. Holtz had volunteered to help Erin down to her room, as she’s got a bit of a limp.

Erin settles back against the pillows, leg stretched out on the bedspread, and lets out a soft groan. It was all she could manage to strip out of her jumpsuit, leaving her in the tank top and yoga capris that she was wearing underneath.

Holtz perches on the edge of the bed. “Feel better?”

Erin shifts the makeshift ice pack. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Silence falls. Erin wants to tell her that she can go back upstairs, but she doesn’t.

“So, I Googled your husband,” Holtz says.

Erin freezes. “You…you did?” she manages to force out.

Holtz pulls up her feet and twists so she’s looking at Erin dead on. “Erin…I need you to tell me the truth—”

Erin holds her breath.

“—are you married to a Republican?”

Erin exhales and slumps back down. “Oh. Um.” She laughs nervously. “I, uh…”

Holtz raises an eyebrow. “Oh god. You are, aren’t you?”

Erin crosses her arms. “It’s okay to have political differences between you and the people you love.”

“Yeah, alright, but it’s one thing to date, like, someone who votes republican—even though that’s 100% a dealbreaker for me anyway—but it’s another thing to be married to _a republican congressman_. Erin, that means you have to vote for him, right? Because he’s your husband?”

“I don’t _have_ to do anything, Holtzmann. It’s a free country.”

Holtz snorts. “Sure, yeah. Okay, are you telling me that you _don’t_ vote for him?”

Erin feels her face colour. “I didn’t say that.”

“So you _do_ vote for him? Oh my god, Erin. You’re a Republican now.”

“Can you just stop?”

Holtz shakes her head with disbelief and—if Erin isn’t mistaken—disappointment. “You couldn’t have married a cool Democrat, huh?”

Erin makes a point of studying her knee. “We’re not talking about this anymore.”

Holtz gazes at her, then sighs. “I’m going to go back upstairs. You good down here?”

Erin doesn’t meet her eyes. “Yep.”

Holtz stares at her a moment longer, then picks herself up off the bed. “Kay. See ya.”

* * *

MEYRIN, GENEVA, SWITZERLAND: 2021

* * *

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“You know I love a good josh,” Holtz says. “But I’m not following.”

Abby scoffs through the phone. “Have you looked at her?”

Holtz propped her chin up on her fist. “I’m looking at her right now.”

“Yeah, okay, and who does she look like?”

“She looks like my girlfriend, Abby.”

A long sigh. “Come _on_.”

“Gen has blonde hair,” Holtz says matter-of-factly.

Genevieve doesn’t look up from her laptop on the other side of the kitchen table. “Why are you talking about me?”

“Oh, so you _have_ thought about this,” Abby says in her ear.

“I’m not,” she says to both of them. Then, to Abby, casually, “How’s she doing, anyway?”

“Who, the traitorous backstabber? You know I don’t talk to her anymore. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass how she’s doing.”

Holtz rolls her eyes. “You gave up the silent treatment with me and Patty within a few months of us leaving. When are you gonna drop it with her?”

“Never,” Abby says. “You know it’s different.”

“Because she did it before?”

“Because she promised.”

“Abby, so did I.”

“Nope, not like she did.” There’s a beat. “Not like she did,” Abby repeats quieter.

* * *

STANFORD, CALIFORNIA, USA: 2024

* * *

Erin knocks on the doorframe of the media room. “What are we up to in here?” she asks cheerfully.

“None of your business,” Iliad says, mashing buttons on his controller until someone’s head explodes graphically on the 85” TV.

Erin presses her lips together. “I don’t know if this is appropriate for your sister.”

Emersynn sits on the other end of the wide leather couch, deeply immersed in her tablet.

“Fuck off, Erin,” Iliad says. “You’re not our mother.”

Erin inhales for three seconds, out for five. “Please don’t swear. Especially in front of Emersynn.”

The four-year-old pays neither of them any attention.

Erin flinches at the sound of machine guns firing on the screen, another splattering of blood on the camera. It freaks her out how realistic the game looks.

“Maybe we can turn that off and do something else?” Erin suggests. “Why don’t we all play a game?”

“Why don’t you go jump off a cliff?” Iliad says.

Silence.

“Fine,” Erin says stiffly, “have it your way. I’ll leave you alone.”

She _told_ Theodore that this would happen.

“I’m just too swamped right now,” he had said. “It’s bad timing.”

“But you only get to have them a couple times a month,” she had replied. “Shouldn’t you try to spend time with them while they’re here?”

“I don’t have time to explain this to you, Erin,” he’d said. “I have too much on my plate. Maybe _you_ should spend some time with them. Bond.” He was already walking away, eyes glued to his phone.

Now, Erin turns her back on the children that will never respect her, or even tolerate her.

“You know, Dad’s only marrying you to piss off Mom,” Iliad says.

She stops, hesitates, and then keeps walking, not willing to let an 11-year-old get under her skin.

She heads all the way to the east wing of the house, where Theodore’s office is. He told her not to bother him this weekend, but she needs reinforcements.

She’s coming down the adjacent corridor when she hears a familiar voice.

“ _Really_ , Ted?”

“Stephanie, please.”

His ex-wife. She must have come to pick up the kids early.

Maybe she’s as irritated as Erin is about him blowing off his children for the weekend.

She reaches the corner and peers around it. The two of them are at the end of the hallway in front of his office.

“You’re really going to marry that bitch?”

Erin freezes, then quickly pulls back out of sight.

“What’s it to you?” he says.

Not ‘Erin isn’t a bitch.’ Not ‘get out of my house.’

There’s silence, and then a muted thud like something hitting a wall.

Instinct is telling her to walk away.

She looks around the corner again.

Theodore has Stephanie pressed up against the wall, his mouth on hers, feverishly groping her.

Erin lets out a choked gasp that’s too quiet for them to hear, ducking back around the corner, slumping her back against the wall as well.

Stephanie says something, muffled, and then there’s some scuffling and thumping, steps retreating, and the office door bangs shut. Behind the closed door, she can just make out a giggle.

And then she turns and walks as quickly as she can back in the direction she came.


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

“So, basically, it comes back to my theory of spectral imprinting.”

Three blank stares.

Patty stares right back. “You know what I mean by that, right?”

Holtz swings her fist into her hand. “You maybe wanna give us a crash course?”

Patty sighs. “Guess none of you read my dissertation, then. Nice.”

“That’s not fair,” Erin says. “It’s not like you’ve read _ours_.”

“Actually, I have,” Patty says. “It was one of the first things I did after the dust settled after the apocalypse.”

Erin shrinks back, clearly embarrassed.

“Anyway,” Patty says, ignoring that, “spectral imprinting is a theory I built off of some of your theories. It’s basically a way of explaining haunted sites and why we see a pattern of repeated paranormal events through history. See, every location has an energy signature to it—an energy that’s actually measurable. What we see when there’s been a particularly bad event occur in a spot is a sort of ‘imprint’ of that event. What happens over the years is there are these echoes—so we see patterns of paranormal activity, all echoing the imprint.”

More blank expressions.

“Come on now, y’all are scientists. This isn’t that complicated. The most basic understanding of why ghosts appear is…what? And I don’t mean the physics of how they appear on this plane. I mean _why?_ ”

Holtz shifts her jaw and glances at Abby. “Because they’re…haunting that location?”

Patty nods in encouragement. “Something bad happens, someone dies there, they haunt that spot. Right?”

Erin cocks her head. “Right?”

Patty points at her. “Right. That’s the echo.”

Holtz folds her arms across her chest. “So the death is the imprint?”

“At the most basic level, yes. But you know how I said that each location has an energy signature?” She pauses. “Well, I have a theory. I think that those energy signatures predate the imprints.”

Their faces fall. She’s lost them again.

“Think about it. Remember the Mercado?”

“I’m not familiar,” Holtz deadpans.

“Spanish for table,” Erin murmurs to herself.

Patty rolls her eyes. “You remember what I said at the beginning, how that spot had a weird history, even before there was a physical building there? Well if you go all the way back, there still isn’t an explanation for why the first tragedy happened there.”

Holtz frowns. “Wasn’t it just, like, cursed?”

Patty smiles at her. “Cursed? Or carrying an energy signature that would influence every event that happened there through history?”

“Patty, where are you going with this?” Abby huffs. “Are you trying to say that there’s this evil energy out there making bad shit happen throughout history?”

Patty holds up a hand. “Careful. I’m not trying to Wonder Woman this and say that outside forces are to blame for everything bad that’s ever happened—in reality, humans are pretty terrible. But when you put someone with evil impulses in an environment that’s actively trying to get them to act on them, what do you expect to happen?”

Holtz squints. “So the environment…is sentient?”

Patty sighs. “I have another theory. It fits in nicely with many of y’all’s theories about the spectral plane. These spots—the ones with particularly malignant energy, the ones where we see hauntings—I believe that they’re weak spots in the barrier. Places where spectral energy is leaking through.” She pauses again, letting that sink in.

“So spectral energy is leaking through, creating an imprint,” Erin murmurs, “which then shapes the events of the future and causes deaths to happen, which creates ghosts, which then use the weak point to enter this plane? Am I following that train of logic right?”

“It’s a theory,” Patty repeats. “Of course, it would mean that the more activity that happens there—”

“The weaker the barrier becomes in that spot,” Abby finishes for her.

“I might be wrong,” Holtz says, “but it looked to me like that joint yesterday was fine until the second your archive entry went live. Then it lit up. Almost like…you were pointing a flashlight at it.”

Abby blinks, then turns her eyes to the maps on the wall of the apartment-lab. “So your archive isn’t just a map of haunted spots—”

“—It’s a map of every weak point in the barrier,” Erin says slowly.

Three panicked gazes go to Patty. She shrinks back from the accusation.

“Come on. Y’all are telling me Rowan’s on the other side there with an iPad, vigilantly stalking my archive so he can find his next entry point? Besides, the weak-point thing is just a theory.”

“It’s a big planet,” Abby says. “If I were a ghost, I’d take the easy route and wait for someone else to give me directions.”

“But I’ve been researching 61st for months,” Patty protests. “If he was paying attention, he would’ve known about it ages ago.”

“Maybe it’s not him,” Erin says. “What if we’re just dealing with an influx of paranormal activity because Patty’s documenting all these weak points—”

“Alleged weak points,” Patty backpedals.

“—and that’s all it is? No evil mastermind. Just some regular old ghosts, looking for a way in.”

“No. It’s him,” Abby says firmly, pressing her mouth together.

Erin glances at her. “Are you sure? How do we know for sure that this is Rowan we’re dealing with?”

The last word has barely left her mouth when there are four loud, simultaneous chimes from each of their phones.

Abby is the first to scramble for hers while Patty shares a horrified look with Erin. Holtz looks giddy.

“Coordinates,” Abby says, reading the alert. The rest of them check theirs as well and make noises of agreement. Abby reaches for the laptop.

Patty reads out the coordinates from her own screen and watches over Abby’s shoulder as she Googles them.

“Hold on—those aren’t the same coordinates as what I got,” Erin says.

Holtz stretches over to look at Erin’s screen. “Hey, me too. I got what you got.”

Beside Patty, Abby scoffs, having pulled up the results of her search. “Okay. Yeah. You wanna tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about?” She swivels the screen to face them. “ _Northville_ , Michigan.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” Holtz lifts up her phone, showing them the screen with another map. “I see that and I raise you _Rowan_ County, _North_ Carolina. Booyah.”

Abby frowns at her. She looks at her own phone. “Okay, I got the same as Patty. Northville.”

Erin looks back and forth between her phone and Holtz’s. “Mine is the Rowan County one.”

Patty glances around the room warily, suddenly very conscious of the fact that he’s listening right now. Watching.

Abby is quiet for a moment. “Okay. Somebody look up bus tickets.”

Erin’s mouth falls open. “You can’t be serious. We can’t go. What if it’s a trap?”

“Of course its a trap,” Holtz says. “That’s part of the fun.”

“We have to take that risk,” Abby says. “This is the first real lead we have. If it’ll take us to him, we need to go.”

“It could also be a diversion,” Patty murmurs, staring at the map on the computer. “A way to get us out of the city while he attacks.”

“Hello, Abby?”

All of their gazes go to Aaron.

He hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “There appears to be someone at the door for you.”

All four of them are on their feet in seconds.

“Tell him we’re not here,” Abby hisses.

“ _Abby_ ,” Erin hisses back. “You can’t send Aaron to talk to him!”

“It’s a female,” Aaron says. “Do you still want me to say you are not here? By the way, have you considered the possibility that world domination isn’t his motive this time around?”

Patty squints at him. He catches her eye and the corner of his mouth curls. Is she imagining it, or is there a glint in his eye?

Before she can open her mouth, someone clears their throat. All four of their heads snap to the open doorway, where a familiar face awaits.

Jennifer Lynch glances around the crammed apartment with distaste. “Ladies…”

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2021

* * *

Erin sits alone, staring blankly ahead.

“Come on, we needed to leave five minutes ago,” Abby says, rushing past and zipping up her jacket.

Erin doesn’t move. “Maybe you should go alone.”

Abby stops dead. “Erin. Come on. We’re in this together. It’s just the two of us now. You’re going to leave me alone to defend ourselves? You think the mayor isn’t going to ask where the rest of our team went? They’re going to look for any chance to cut our funding more. You know that.”

Erin finally tears her gaze away from the empty workbench in front of the containment unit.

“I can’t, Abby,” she says. “I just can’t.”

“We have to keep moving forward,” Abby says, fire burning in her eyes. “If we slow down, we’ll lose everything we’ve worked so hard for. We’re not over just because they left. We _have_ to keep going.”

Erin doesn’t _have_ to do anything but sit here, watching the ghosts that keep dancing around the lab. The echoes are everywhere. If she concentrates hard enough, she can see her. Hear her. Feel her.

She hugs her knee to her chest.

“I can’t, Abby,” she repeats.

A pause.

“Fine,” Abby says. “I’ll go face the wolves alone. But if we lose everything, it’s your fault.”

Erin’s eyes drift back over the empty lab.

“None of this is my fault,” she whispers.

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2026

* * *

Abby stands with her arms crossed. “What are you doing here?”

Jennifer sniffs, nose wrinkling. “This place is disgusting.”

Erin feels the same way, but for some reason it rubs her the wrong way to have someone else trash their makeshift lab. “Jennifer,” she says, “what can we help you with?”

Jennifer’s gaze lands on her. “Well, we’ve been monitoring the situation over the past few months, of course. I can only imagine that the four of you being here under one roof means something bad.”

Abby scoffs. “If you were paying attention at all, you would know that we passed ‘bad’ months ago. Where the hell have you been?”

“We’ve been keeping tabs on you,” Jennifer says. “You were handling it just fine, but lately it appears that you’ve given up entirely. Taking a little vacation?”

Abby steps forward. “ _Excuse_ me?”

Erin grabs her arm to stop her, but she shrugs it off.

“I haven’t _given up_ ,” Abby snaps. “The activity has gotten so bad that I can’t keep up anymore.”

“Really?” Jennifer tilts her head. “Because it looked like you just stopped trying.”

“Listen, _Jennifer—_ ” Abby starts.

“Abby, Abby,” Erin warns, tugging at her arm again.

Then out of the corner of her eye she sees something. Two unfamiliar men wait in the hallway outside the open apartment door, both wearing black suits. Hawkins and Rorke must have retired.

Her gaze travels down, and her stomach drops with it.

Green mist pools around their feet, licking at their pant hems.

Her eyes snap up. Both of them turn their heads at the same time, matching smiles crooking their mouths.

Her heart pounds. She has to say something.

Abby is still fighting with Jennifer in the background.

“Are you going to help us at least?” Holtz says.

Erin turns back, mouth open, but as soon as she gets there she can’t remember what she was about to say.

“It depends,” Jennifer says, looking them over. “What do you need?”

Erin blinks, trying to reorganize her scrambled thoughts. What do they need? “Do you still have connections with the mayor?” she asks.

Something tugs in the back of her mind. She feels like she’s forgetting something. Like she’s left a burner on. Left the house unlocked.

She frowns to herself.

Jennifer laughs. “Are you kidding?”

Patty and Holtz exchange a look.

“She _is_ the mayor,” Abby mumbles sullenly.

Dim recognition filters through Erin. That must have been what she was forgetting. What her brain was trying to communicate with her.

And yet—the feeling is still there.

Her eyes drift over to the hallway, where the two men who accompanied Jennifer are waiting. They’re both staring disinterestedly in the other direction. One of them checks his watch and yawns.

She stares at them for a moment, brow furrowed, then looks away. She still can’t shake the feeling. It’s like there’s something perched on the tip of her tongue.

“Think you could swing some plane tickets for us?” Holtz asks, leaning against Kevin’s desk. “I think we might be taking a little field trip soon.”


	13. Chapter 13

* * *

ROWAN COUNTY, NORTH CAROLINA, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin doesn’t think they should be here.

She was against all of this. Splitting up. Travelling to the locations that were texted to them.

It’s a trap. It must be. Or a diversion, like Patty said.

They split up based on who received what coordinates. Patty and Abby are in Michigan. Erin and Holtz…

Are wandering the fairgrounds of the Rowan County Fair.

Holtz was the one who spotted the sign while they were circling the area. She said it could be a good place to scope out. It was clearly just a thinly-veiled excuse to have some fun, but Erin didn’t protest hard enough, so here they are.

The lights and sounds of the fair are dizzying. As they walk through the carnival games, workers hollering at them, Erin holds her proton gun heavy in her hands, ready to use it at the slightest disturbance.

Holtz pauses in front of a balloon-dart stall, listening to the pimply boy behind it heckle her, urging her to play.

“Come on down, win a prize,” he calls.

“Holtz, come on, we have to keep moving,” Erin says.

“Hold on, I just wanna try one thing,” Holtz says, stepping closer to the stall. She swings her own gun down from its holster and takes aim. “Move out of the way, kid.”

“Lady, you gotta—”

There’s a loud bang as Holtz fires, a proton blast shooting out and decimating the entire wall of balloons—and leaving a giant, smoking hole in the stall.

The kid pops up from where he had ducked behind the booth. “What the _hell_ , lady?”

“What do I win?” Holtz asks cheerfully.

Erin grabs her by the arm and tugs her away from the wreckage. “That was so unnecessary, Holtzmann.”

“That was so _fun_ ,” Holtz replies with glee.

They keep walking, scanning their surroundings for anything unusual, but it’s all just so overwhelming that they’re going to have a hard time spotting anything.

As they walk, dark clouds begin gathering in the sky, casting a shadow over the fairgrounds.

“Hey, do you remember the time we went to the carnival together?” Holtz asks.

Erin remembers. “Yeah. Yeah, that was fun.”

“And you went on every ride with me even though you hate rides. You remember that?”

“I remember,” Erin says. At the time, she wasn’t sure why she was putting herself through it. Now she has a bit of an idea.

They keep walking in silence.

Holtz zeroes in on something in the distance. “Oh mama, _that’s_ what we need.”

Erin follows her gaze to the ferris wheel towering at the edge of the grounds. “Holtz, now is really not the time for rides.”

Holtz rolls her eyes at her. “No, Er-in. Not for pleasure. For viewing purposes. We’ll be able to see everything from up there.”

Erin bites her lip, glancing overhead at the rapidly darkening sky. She can hear rumbles of what sounds like thunder in the distance. “I don’t know…”

“Fine, you can stay down here. I’ll do it.” With that, Holtz marches off in the direction of the ferris wheel.

Erin jogs to catch up to her. “I’m just a little worried about the weather.”

“The weather?” Holtz scoffs. “Pretty sure the weather is the last thing we need to be worried about right now.”

They reach the base of the ferris wheel, where a tired-looking ride operator is ushering people off.

“How much to ride?” Holtz asks.

He glances at her. “No can do. Storm’s rolling in. Not allowed to send anyone else up.”

“I can make it worth your while,” Holtz says. She stows her gun and digs around in her pocket until she produces a wad of bills, then presses it into his hands with a waggle of her eyebrows.

“I don’t need your four dollars,” the man says, but he pockets the bills anyway. “Sorry. S’policy.”

Holtz rummages in her pockets again, then holds up an open wallet, briefly flipping the man a badge of some sort. “It’s official business. We need to get up there.”

His forehead creases. There’s a beat.

“Fine, then. But I gotta get everyone down first.”

Holtz nods solemnly. “We’ll just wait right over there.”

She grabs Erin’s arm this time, pulling her off to the side.

“What the hell did you show him?” Erin asks.

“My CERN ID,” Holtz says. “It’s all in the confidence.”

Erin shakes her head. “Are you really going up there?”

“Yeeessss, Eriiiin. Stop worrying. I’ll be up and down in no time at all, and maybe we’ll have a lead to follow instead of wandering around this fair for hours. Which, not to say isn’t a delightful evening, but might not be the best use of our time right now.”

Erin sighs, tapping her foot impatiently and looking over her shoulder. That’s definitely thunder in the distance now.

“Fine,” she says briskly. “Will our Bluetooths work? To keep in communication while you’re up there?”

Holtz hums. “Well, mine is shoddy at the best of times.” She turns, scanning behind her. “What we need is a—ah!”

She takes off towards the ferris wheel operator again, who is helping the last of the riders off. He eyes them warily when they approach.

“S’all yours,” he says.

“Excellent,” Holtz says. “Also, we’ll be requiring the use of your radio.”

He looks down at the radio clipped to his belt, then back up at her. “No can do. I need it to communicate with security.”

“Buddy.” Holtz rests a hand on his shoulder. “What’s the likelihood of a carnival emergency happening in the next twenty minutes? I pop up, back down in a jiff, and it’s back in your hands before you know it.”

He huffs, but relents, unclipping the radio and handing it to her.

She bows her head. “Thank you, good sir.”

Before Erin can process what’s happening, Holtz is reaching over and plucking her earpiece from her ear.

“Hey!” Erin protests.

Holtz drops into a squat in the dusty dirt, pulling a set of small tools from her pocket, balancing the radio on one knee and Erin’s earpiece on the other. She fiddles with them for a minute while Erin exchanges an exasperated glance with the ride attendant, and then finally she stands back up.

“Et voila, a couple quick adjustments, Holtzmann-style, and we should be good to communicate.” She looks at the ride attendant. “I would say when you get this back, maybe don’t keep it so close to your crotch? I have a feeling it might cause infertility now.”

The man looks appropriately alarmed as Erin takes her earpiece back from Holtz and slides it into place again. Holtz clips the radio to the front of her jumpsuit and adjusts her gear on her back.

“Alrighty then, let’s get me on up there, huh?”

* * *

There’s a burst of static, and then Erin’s voice comes through the radio on Holtz’s chest.

“Can you see anything?”

Holtz takes a moment to rock her seat, finding enjoyment in the sway, the feeling of her feet hanging over open air. She’s always loved ferris wheels.

“Nothing yet,” she says into the radio, scanning the fairgrounds. All she can see is happy families and fair-goers having fun, trying their luck at the carnival games, and spinning on the tilt-a-whirl. Nothing out of the ordinary.

It’s a fantastic view, though, so she’ll savour this moment.

The sky is black with storm clouds, giving the impression that it’s nighttime. Fat raindrops dot her coveralls, but she ignores them, whistling to herself.

“Okay, well, if you can’t see anything, then maybe you should come down?” Even through the radio, Erin sounds anxious.

Holtz rolls her eyes, then presses the button again. “I’ve barely started looking around. Give me some time.”

“I _really_ don’t like the look of these storm clouds, Holtz. I just don’t want—”

Holtz cuts her off. “It’s _fine_ , Erin.”

As she says it, she watches lightning cut through the dark sky, maybe ten miles out. The thunder that follows comes 30 seconds later, so she’s not far off in her estimate. The rain gets heavier.

She only half-listens to Erin and Dan-the-ferris-wheel-man debating if they should bring her down. She’s too busy scanning the surrounding area for any sign of paranormal activity.

And then she sees it—a flash of green, unearthly green.

It’s at that moment that everything goes dark.

* * *

Erin’s head snaps back and forth. “What was that? What just happened?”

“Power’s out,” Dan grunts.

Erin huffs impatiently. “Okay, yeah, I got that.” She glances up to the top of the wheel, where she can see Holtz. “Are you okay up there?” she says into her earpiece.

“That was wicked,” Holtz says in her ear. “Lights are out as far as I can see in every direction. I think even Charlotte is out.”

The fair is dark and dead-quiet, all music and rides cut silent. Erin looks around herself, stomach churning uneasily.

“Hold on,” she says, something occurring to her suddenly, “this is a fair.” She turns to Dan slowly, blinking. “Why aren’t you running on generators?”

He looks just as puzzled as her. “We are. We got backups, too. I never seen anything like this.” He glances up the wheel with annoyance. “Wish I had my radio.”

The uneasy feeling spreads through her, her mind spinning.

She jumps as another lightning bolt cuts through the sky, a boom echoing ten seconds later.

She looks at Dan with new urgency, covering her earpiece so Holtz won’t be able to hear her. “We have to get her down. Now.”

He crosses his arms. “Can’t. Not without power. She’s stuck until it’s back.”

She stares at him. “No. No, that’s unacceptable. We need to get her down.”

He shakes his head. “I’m tellin’ you, she’s stuck up there. Nothing I can do. She’s the one who wanted to go up in the storm.”

“But I don’t think this is a normal storm.” Erin’s voice is rising in pitch. “You _have_ to get her down. _Now._ I don’t care what you have to do! Call the fire department! We need to—”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, because at that moment, the sky lights up, a blinding flash and deafening crash as the bolt connects with the ferris wheel, and she screams, and she hears other screams too, but the only one that registers is the one from the carriage hanging precariously at the top.

And she swears, she _swears_ , that she can hear menacing laughter echoing in the clouds.

“ _Holtz!”_ she screams. She fumbles for her earpiece. “Holtz, please, no, please—”

There’s only static in her ear.

Every cell in her body feels empty, on fire, made of ice.

“Call 911,” she manages to choke out.

* * *

NORTHVILLE, MICHIGAN, USA: 2026

* * *

Patty bumps into the wall behind her. She can’t back up any further. There’s nowhere else to go.

_Your fault._

Her proton gun hangs, snapped and sparking, down by her ankles.

_This is all your fault_.

He continues to advance down the dim hallway towards her.

She closes her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it's worth mentioning that I did write part of this chapter in the middle of Hurricane Dorian last month while I was sitting in the dark with no power, BUT I planned all these scenes back in August. So...not inspired by, just written during (whilst harnessing the chaotic & terrifying energy).
> 
> Also, yeah. Cliffhangers. Sorry not sorry?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Appears in doorway* You rang? Something about wanting some cliffhangers resolved? Consider this a Thanksgiving present, then!
> 
> *Goes back to cooking turkey, whistling*

* * *

ROWAN COUNTY, NORTH CAROLINA, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin sits in a chair that’s pushed up as close to the bed as humanly possible.

They almost didn’t let her back here, to this dreary shared room in the Rowan Medical Center, located on a street called Mocksville Avenue—because the universe can’t even be subtle about it.

She had to beg and plead.

“She doesn’t have anyone else,” she said to anyone who would listen. “Her parents don’t speak to her, she’s an only child, and her gir—she has nobody. I’m all she has.”

They let her back.

Holtz is pulling her hospital robe out of the way so she can inspect the Lichtenberg figures spreading across her chest and down her right arm.

She looks up at Erin with a grin. “I’m like reverse Harry Potter!”

Erin inches closer, her legs pressed uncomfortably against the frame of the bed. “How?”

Holtz rolls her eyes. “He had a lightning scar on his head, and I have one on my body. Obviously.”

“His wasn’t caused by lightning,” Erin points out.

Holtz sighs exaggeratedly. “I _know_. That’s why I’m _reverse_ Harry Potter.” She thinks for a moment, eyes trained on the stained ceiling. “I am…a fully grown adult woman living in a magical world who’s suddenly told that she’s a regular person, and has to go live with her super nice niece and nephew. Also, she fought an evil baby.” She frowns. “Or…non-evil baby? Wait, would _I_ be the villain?”

Erin fights the urge to roll her own eyes. “Holtz. Maybe this isn’t the most important discussion right now.”

“This is completely critical, actually.”

“Holtz, you could’ve— _should have_ —died earlier. Aren’t you, I don’t know, at _all_ concerned about that?”

“I’m totally and completely fine,” Holtz says. “Fit as a fiddle.”

“You had a _seizure_ , and you have bad burns—and you could’ve had a _stroke_ , or been _paralysed_ , or _died, Holtzmann. Died.”_

“You know, I really forgot how much of a drama queen you are. Has that gotten worse with age, or is it more noticeable after being apart from you for years?”

Erin sighs loudly and slumps back in her chair.

Holtz eyes her. “Really. I’m okay. I didn’t die. Let’s focus on that, yeah?”

Erin nods, biting her lip.

“Besides, this was definitely on my bucket list. I’ve always wanted to be struck by lightning.”

Erin doesn’t say anything.

“Also,” Holtz says casually, “can you do me a favour?”

“Yes,” Erin says immediately. “Anything.”

Holtz’s expression is suspiciously guilty. “How much do you love me?”

Now Erin frowns. “What? What is it?”

“I need you to call Gen and tell her what happened.”

Silence.

“Why can’t you?”

“Wellllll, she’s gonna be pissed, for starters, and I think she’ll be _less_ mad if it comes from someone else. Also. I can’t move my arm.”

Erin is already about to reply when that second part cuts her short. “Wait, what?”

Holtz points with her left hand at her right arm. “Entirely numb. Can’t move it.”

Erin’s brow creases. “Jesus, Holtz—you probably have nerve damage. Did you tell the doctor?”

Holtz rolls her eyes again but doesn’t answer the question. “So. Can you do it?”

Erin grits her teeth but nods. “Where’s your phone?”

Holtz makes a little explosion noise. “Fried.”

Erin blinks. “Then how do you expect me to—”

Holtz raises an eyebrow, holding back a smile. “Do you not know how to dial a phone number?”

Erin feels her face heat up. “Obviously. I just…you know her phone number offhand?”

“Yessss?” Holtz says slowly. “Do you not know your husband’s phone number?”

“I…if I needed to get ahold of him, I could just phone his office and they’d put me in touch with him.”

Holtz is still watching her with an amused expression. “Do you know his office number, then?”

“Google exists,” Erin says stiffly. She shakes her head quickly to end the conversation. “Okay. Fine. I’ll get my phone.”

She reaches for her purse and pulls it out, briefly noting that there’s a missed call and voice mail from Patty, which she ignores. One thing at a time.

She keys in the string of numbers that Holtz recites—she says she’ll pay for any international charges, but Erin waves her off—and then its ringing in her ear.

“ _Speaker_ ,” Holtz mouths.

Erin fumbles for the speaker key, and then both of them can hear the ringing. She thinks that maybe she won’t pick up—it’s the middle of the night there, after all—but finally there’s a voice.

“Hello?”

She sounds pretty. And cool. Erin immediately hates her.

“Hi, um, Gen—Genevieve? My name is Dr. Erin Gilbert—but…but not a doctor like that, um—” She clears her throat anxiously, realizing that she can’t exactly call from a hospital and introduce herself that way. “I, uh, I know your—I know Holtz—and, um—”

“Yeah, I know who you are,” Genevieve says, and not kindly.

“Oh,” Erin says nervously.

“Where’s Jillian?” she says sharply.

Erin’s eyes dart to Holtz, who mimes zipping her mouth closed and throwing away the key.

“She’s, well, um, she’s…”

“Is she injured?”

Erin is sweating. “She’s—she’s okay. But there was an accident.”

A pause.

“Put her on the phone.”

Holtz shakes her head rapidly, then winces at the movement.

“Well, she’s, uhhh…not really able to—”

“Is she okay or not?” Genevieve snaps.

“She’s okay,” Erin says quickly, “but she’s just not…really up for talking right now—”

“Put her on the phone,” she says, so forcefully that Erin herself winces.

Neither of them say anything. Holtz mouths something that looks like _just hang up_. Erin shakes her head.

“Hello?” There’s a very irritated sigh. “Jillian, are you listening?”

A long pause, then Holtz scrunches up her face in defeat. “I’m here.”

“What did you do?” The way she speaks to her reminds Erin of a mother yelling at a child.

“I didn’t _do_ anything,” Holtz says stubbornly.

“What. Happened?” Genevieve enunciates each word clearly, like she’s talking to someone incredibly stupid, and not one of the smartest people in the world.

“I’m going to defer to Erin to tell the—”

“Jillian.”

“Got struck by lightning,” Holtz mumbles.

There’s a long pause.

“Of course you fucking did. Where are you?”

“Salisbury, North Carolina,” Erin supplies.

Another pause. “Why are—ugh. Fine. What’s the closest airport?”

“You don’t need to come,” Holtz says quickly. “Please don’t. I’m fine.”

There’s a clicking noise on the other end. “Fucking power’s out,” Genevieve says with irritation.

Erin’s brow furrows. “Wait, really? That’s such a coincidence, ours is—”

“Gen, it doesn’t matter. You’re not coming,” Holtz says. “It’ll be days before you can get here, and by that point I’ll be out of here and back to fighting anyway.”

She does have a point.

“I actually agree with Holtz,” Erin says. “She really does seem fine. I think it might be more hassle than its worth for you to—”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do,” Genevieve snaps at her. “She’s _my_ fiancee, and I’m coming to bring her home. This has gone on long enough.”

Erin recoils from the phone. Her eyes land on Holtz, heart constricting.

“You’re engaged?” she whispers.

“Yes,” Gen says, but Holtz shakes her head firmly.

“No.”

“We’re not having this conversation right now,” Genevieve barks at her.

“Why do you do this?” Holtz’s voice is angry now. “Steamroll over _everything,_ force everything—I’m telling you that I don’t want you here, and you’re just—”

“ _Enough_ , Jillian! Why do you have to _keep_ doing this? You’re so selfish—”

“ _Selfish?_ What more do you _want_ from me? I’m moving to fucking _Australia_ for you—”

“And you haven’t let me forget for _one minute_ how _unhappy_ you are about that, how you’d rather go back to your _stupid_ little life in New York instead of being with me. I’m always going to be second best to you—”

“I’m throwing away my entire _life_ for you, Genevieve! I’m giving up _everything!”_

It falls silent. Holtz’s chest heaves, out of breath from yelling.

“I’ll make it easy for you, then,” Genevieve says, voice measured, cold. “You don’t have to give up anything if I go alone.”

“Gen—”

The line goes dead.

There’s a beat.

Holtz slams her fist into the railing on her bed. “ _Fuck._ ”

Erin feels paralysed, unable to say anything.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers finally.

Holtz gives her a dead look. “Why?”

Erin bites her lip.

They sit in silence. Erin stares at her hands. She feels like she should give Holtz space, but she can’t bring herself to leave her.

“I never said yes,” Holtz says after several minutes.

Erin looks up.

Holtz doesn’t meet her eyes. “She proposed twice. I never said yes.”

Erin stills as she digests that.

“Did you say no?” she asks after a long pause.

Holtz doesn’t reply, just presses her lips into a hard line.

“I don’t want to get married,” she says at last, looking in the other direction. “It’s not my thing. She knows that. But she’s trying to force it anyway. It’s like she thinks that if she keeps pushing hard enough, eventually I won’t have any fight in me. And we’ll get married. The worst part is she’s probably right.”

Erin’s hands ball up into fists. “Why would she want to force you? Who would want a marriage that begins through coercion?”

Silence.

“She thinks I’m making excuses and that it’s all bullshit,” Holtz says. “That it’s just her I don’t want to commit to. She thinks that if someone else asked me, the right person, I’d say yes.”

“Would you?” Erin asks before she can stop herself.

Holtz turns her head, holding her gaze for several long seconds.

“Does it matter?” she says through a jaw clenched so tight that Erin can see it from where she’s sitting.

Erin’s heart thuds in her chest. It drowns out the noises of the hospital, the beeping of the machine hooked up to Holtz.

_Does it matter?_

_Does any of it?_

An urge overwhelms her.

She’s moving, standing, bending down towards her, unable to stop herself. She’s a woman possessed.

Her lips are inches from Holtz’s when she finally reacts, pulling away, out of reach.

“What are you doing?” Holtz asks, voice shaking.

Erin freezes.

What _is_ she doing?

“I’m sorry,” she blurts reflexively.

“I have a _girlfriend_ ,” Holtz says.

Erin sinks back into her seat, mortified. “I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“Erin, you’re _married_.”

“I’m getting divorced,” Erin says, the words spilling out like someone has ripped tape from her mouth.

Holtz blinks at her, shock plain on her face for a moment, but then it smooths out. “No you’re not.”

It’s out there now, so there’s no turning back. “Yes. I am.”

“Why are you still wearing your rings, then?”

Erin looks down at her left hand. She knows why.

Holtz shakes her head before Erin can reply. “You would never get divorced. That’s not what you do. You can talk all you want, but at the end of the day you’re no risk-taker. You play it safe. And this little marriage of yours is exactly what you’ve always wanted.”

Erin can only stare at her, rage boiling under her skin where there wasn’t a few seconds ago. “I play it _safe_?” she repeats. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Holtz closes her mouth and nods tightly.

“Was telling you that I loved you _safe_ , Holtzmann?” Erin spits. It’s like she’s lost all control over her words. Everything she’s been holding in, tumbling out.

If that flusters Holtz, she doesn’t let it show. “You packed up to California and married a Republican anyway,” she says, voice raising again.

“You rejected me and moved to Switzerland!” Erin all but shouts. “Was I supposed to follow you?”

“It doesn’t _matter_ ,” Holtz says. “You’re not getting divorced. Erin Gilbert cares way too much what people think of her to ever go through with that.”

Erin is so mad she’s shaking. “I’m not Erin Gilbert anymore.”

Holtz looks at her dead on. “I know. You’re Erin Whitman, and that’s who you’ll be for the rest of your life.”

It cuts through her, making it hard to breathe.

“You don’t believe me?” She unlocks her phone again. Scrolls through her contacts.

He answers after only one ring, and his voice fills the room.

“Erin, where the _hell_ are you?”

She fights back a flinch. She doesn’t want Holtz to see.

He doesn’t let her answer, just continues yelling through the phone.

“Do you care about _anybody_ but yourself? Taking off to god knows where? Pulling this shit right in the middle of this election? I’ve got half the goddamn state calling the office about this blackout and the other half calling to ask where my goddamn wife is! As if they already weren’t suspicious enough!”

“It’s not my job to pretend anymore,” she cuts in.

“We had a _deal,_ Erin!”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you started sleeping with your ex-wife,” she says smoothly.

He splutters into silence. “Excuse me?”

She doesn’t repeat herself. She knows he heard her.

“When did you find out?” he says finally, his voice dangerous.

“I’ve known since before the wedding,” she says.

Holtz stiffens in her peripherals.

He laughs once. “And you went through with it anyway? You stupid bitch.”

“What did you just call her?” Holtz snaps.

“Who the fuck is there? Erin, if you’ve got the press involved, I swear to Christ—”

“I haven’t told anybody.”

She can practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“What do you want?” he says after a moment, his voice hardened. “Money? Is that what you’re after?”

“I don’t need your money,” she says. “I need you to sign the fucking papers and then I never want to see you again in my life.”

She hangs up before he can respond.

And then she crumples.

She feels Holtz’s hand interlace with hers.

“I’m sorry,” Holtz says, sounding broken.

“Why?” Erin echoes, looking up through her tears.

Holtz’s face is ashy. It finally matches the hospital setting. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I was being cruel. I’m so sorry, Erin. I had no idea.”

Erin wipes at her eyes. “He’s right. So are you. I’m so stupid and so weak. I _knew_ and I _still_ married him. It’s taken me two _years_ to work up the nerve to finally file for divorce, and even _then_ I shut up and did it his way. I agreed to keep living in that godforsaken house, keep going to his stupid campaign events and pretending like we’re a happy married couple, keep up appearances until after the election is over, keep wearing these _fucking_ rings—” She yanks her hand from Holtz’s and rips off the rings, hurling them at the far wall with all the force she can manage. Then she folds, a sob choking out of her.

Holtz finds her hand again.

“You’re not stupid,” she says firmly. “You’re _so_ strong. You left an abusive marriage, and one that was in the public eye, at that. You’re brave and strong and smart and I’m _so_ proud of you. We’re going to get you out of there, okay? _Fuck_ his campaign. He deserves to lose every election. _Asshole_.”

Erin sniffles.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Holtz says in a softer voice. “No matter what you promised to him, you could’ve told us.”

Erin shakes her head. “You had enough to say about the fact that I married him to begin with, without even knowing the whole truth. I was humiliated enough.”

Holtz swears under her breath. “I hate myself for making you feel that way. I shouldn’t have said _anything_ about your marriage, but if I had known—”

Erin wipes at her eyes again. “I just wish I could take the past five years of my life back. I should have never moved to stupid California.”

Holtz’s grip on her hand tightens.

They sit in silence while Erin gets herself under control, and then she finally withdraws her hand from Holtz’s and sits up straighter, rolling her shoulders back and taking a few deep breaths.

Holtz watches her. “So, uh. This might be bad timing…but am I crazy, or did he say say ‘blackout’ on the phone?”

Erin frowns, trying to think back. He did, didn’t he? “You’re right. And…Genevieve said that there was a power outage there.”

“That all seems a little…coincidental,” Holtz says.

Erin’s stomach turns, that uneasy feeling back. She looks over her shoulder, flagging down a nurse passing in the hallway. “Excuse me, can we turn on the news?”

The nurse shakes her head. “We’re on generator right now. Until the power’s back up, we’re on essential services only.”

“I consent to you pulling the plug on me in exchange for five minutes of TV time,” Holtz says.

The nurse gives her a dirty look and whisks from the room.

“Worth a shot,” Holtz says.

Erin checks the battery on her phone. It’s not great, but she needs to know what’s going on.

Her Google search takes much longer than usual, spinning and spinning while trying to connect to her data. Finally, it loads.

She scans the results, stomach sinking.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Holtz cranes her head to try to see the screen. “What?”

“Simultaneous blackout affecting over two thousand major cities across the planet. Reports are suggesting over one _billion_ people are without power. It’s the largest power event in history and there’s no reason for it to have happened. It’s been hours and nobody has been able to get power restored anywhere. There’s been a worldwide state of emergency issued.”

She looks up in horror. Holtz’s expression mirrors hers.

“Oh, fuck,” Holtz says.

Erin is already up and out of her chair. “This must have been what Patty phoned about. _Shit_.”

“Patty phoned?”

“She left a voicemail earlier,” Erin says, kicking herself for ignoring it. Granted, she’s been a little preoccupied, but…

She enters her voicemail password and lifts the phone to her ear.

“Speaker?” Holtz asks, but Erin doesn’t move.

“ _Erin, you need to get here. Now_ ,” Patty says in her ear. “ _Rowan is here. He’s got Abby._ ”

Erin feels all the blood drain from her face.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Holtz asks.

Erin is already backing up from the room, dialing Patty’s number, ignoring Holtz call her name.

It only rings once.

“Erin,” Patty says without inflection.

Erin slumps against the wall in the hallway, praying. “Patty, oh my god, I’m so sorry. Holtz got hurt—we’re in the hospital—and I didn’t get your message until now. Where are you? I’ll get there as soon as I can—”

“It’s too late,” Patty says in a flat, chilling voice.

Erin can feel her body shake. “What do you mean? I’m on my way, we’ll find her, we’ll—”

“It’s too late,” Patty repeats. “He’s killed her. Abby is dead.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for not sending me death threats after the last chapter! You guys are really learning, huh?
> 
> In other news, I've been home half the day because a storm blew our power out at work (and left 30,000 other people across the province without power) which put me in the mood to release another chapter of this fic, naturally

* * *

ROWAN COUNTY, NORTH CAROLINA, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin feels numb all the way through as her legs carry her back into the hospital room.

Holtz is sitting forward as far as she can tethered to the monitors and IV. Her quickened heart-rate fills the room with beeps.

“What is it? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Erin says before she can think about it. Her mind spins, trying to catch up with the lie as it pours from her mouth. “They don’t have power either.”

Holtz frowns like she can see right through her. “Did they find anything yet?”

Erin stares straight ahead. She fears if she makes eye contact with Holtz, she’ll fall apart completely.

“They think he’s there. They need help,” she says robotically. _They_. _They._

A pause. “Alright, when’s the next flight? Let’s go.”

That snaps Erin from her nightmare. “You’re staying here. I’m going.”

“Not a chance,” Holtz says.

“You’re not coming,” Erin says. Her voice sounds dead even to her ears. “You were struck by lightning a few hours ago. You’re injured. You’re staying right here.”

“Fine, go by yourself,” Holtz says, “but I’ll break out of here and follow right behind you. You can’t stop me.”

Erin’s eyes fall on her finally.

She knows it’s the truth.

“Fine,” she says. She doesn’t have anything left in her to argue. She’s been emptied out entirely.

Holtz nods once. “Look away for a second.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to take out my IV.”

Erin flinches, and her eyes flutter shut.

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2018

* * *

Erin sits still except for her leg, which is bouncing uncontrollably. Her hands twist in her lap. Her eyes are fixed on the door.

Someone plops down in the seat next to her. “You know she’s going to be okay, right?”

Erin glances sideways at Abby, heart pulling.

Her best friend offers a small smile. “She always is.”

Erin manages a tiny nod, then looks back at the door across the emergency room waiting area.

“I’m not cut out for this,” she murmurs. “What we do is too dangerous. How many times have I had to sit here waiting, out of my mind with anxiety? How many times will I have to?”

“It’s just a dislocated shoulder,” Abby reminds her.

“I know. But one day, it’s going to be more than a dislocated shoulder. And I don’t know how I’ll get through it.”

“You just will,” Abby says. “You’ll have to.”

* * *

NORTHVILLE, MICHIGAN, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin’s gaze trails out the window of the rental car, tracking the bleak scenery as she drives by. It’s raining, fog settling in over the town. All the street lights are out.

“I’ve been here before,” she says, the realization creeping through her.

“When?” Holtz asks between laboured breaths that Erin is trying hard to tune out.

“In college,” Erin murmurs. “I came with—” She closes her eyes briefly. Her own breathing is ragged. “We came for a paranormal stakeout. Got nothing.”

The sun is just rising. They’ve driven ten hours to get here. No stops. She’s been awake all night. Flying wasn’t an option. All air travel is grounded in the wake of the blackouts.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” Erin says. Patty isn’t answering her phone.

Holtz leans forward from the back seat. “Where did you come when you were here? If there’s somewhere with enough activity to warrant a stakeout, that could be a good place to start.”

Erin shakes her head. “Just the cemetery. That’s what we did—drove around to small town cemeteries on the weekends. It was useless.”

“Let’s go there, then.”

Erin bites her tongue.

She doesn’t say that a cemetery is the last place she wants to be right now.

She just keeps driving.

* * *

They walk slowly down the path into the cemetery, which is just as Erin remembers it.

Holtz is struggling along beside her. It’s clear that it’s taking a lot out of her just to walk. At least she doesn’t have her proton pack to weigh her down. It was destroyed by the lightning strike.

Erin should have overruled, told a nurse to keep an eye on her and under no circumstances let her leave the hospital. Chain her to the bed if they had to. She shouldn’t be here.

Erin doesn’t know when she’s going to tell her. She doesn’t know how she _can_.

If she says the words out loud, they’ll be true.

For now, all she can focus on is finding Patty.

It’s hard to see through the fog. She keeps thinking she sees movement, only for it to disappear.

One thing is noticeable—the air is thick with ionization. It’s suffocating.

Finally—a figure, standing motionless across the cemetery.

“Patty,” Erin breathes in relief, eyes immediately filling with tears.

She takes off towards her, picking over graves and dodging headstones, conscious of Holtz following close behind.

“Erin,” Patty calls in a flat voice. “You made it.”

“Patty, I am so sorry,” Erin says, voice wavering as she moves closer. “This isn’t your fault. We should’ve been here.”

She’s about twenty feet away now, and she stops abruptly, her skin prickling, the hairs on her arms standing up. Her heart thuds in her chest as she takes in what she’s seeing, blinking the tears from her eyes to clear up her blurry vision and confirm that she’s not just seeing things.

Patty cocks her head slightly to the side. “Erin?”

It’s Patty, but her face—

Erin takes a half-step back, trembling.

Her face is wrong.

Backwards.

Flipped, like the way it would look in a mirror.

“Holtz,” Erin chokes out, barely audible. “Run.”

She takes a bigger step back now, colliding into Holtz, and at the moment she does so, there’s a sharp spike of pain in her back.

Almost immediately, her vision starts to blur around the edges again, but this time her eyes are dry. She whirls around, stumbling, and there’s another slice of pain in the same spot, and she sees Holtz there behind her, holding what looks like a syringe, the corner of her mouth hooked up.

“Whoops,” she sings. “Nicked this from the hospital. You never should have turned your back.”

Large purple and black spots bloom in Erin’s vision, and she’s falling, falling, falling.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I enjoy confusing you? Maybe

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2017

* * *

“Abby, do you think that…” Erin trails off, not sure how to begin.

Abby doesn’t look up from the control panel of the containment unit. “What?”

Erin bites her lip, sitting on the edge of the worktable at the back. “Sometimes I just think about when we went through the portal. Do you think that…I don’t know, we’re going to see any long-term effects from that? That had to have affected us, right?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m infertile now,” Abby says, still not looking over, “but I’m never going to test that theory, so it’s kind of a moot point.”

Erin chews on her lip. “I was thinking more like…like…”

Abby finally looks at her. “You have a theory, Gilbert? Spit it out.”

Erin rubs her arm. “It’s pretty stupid.”

“No science is stupid science.” Abby gestures for her to get on with it.

Erin exhales. “I just get this feeling like maybe…maybe it made us…stronger.”

Abby snorts. “I have been able to bench press more.”

“Not like _that_ ,” Erin protests. “Don’t make fun of me. I more meant that I think it—being exposed to a plane of existence that living people aren’t meant to be in, I mean—don’t you think that it could’ve changed us?”

Abby eyes her with amusement. “You think we’re going to develop superpowers? You know what—I’ll keep an eye out for any tingling spidey senses and let you know, alright?”

“Never mind,” Erin says stiffly, picking herself up off the work bench and pushing past her, knowing full well that she can’t suggest what she really wants to suggest. Some theories are just too absurd, even for Abby.

But still, she can’t stop thinking about it.

* * *

NORTHVILLE, MICHIGAN, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin wakes up, but doesn’t open her eyes.

Her entire body feels like its been through an intense workout, every muscle screaming.

She’s lying on the ground. She can feel wet grass beneath her, prickling against her skin and dampening her clothes. Something flat and cold is beneath her face, little ridges pressing into her cheek. She can smell dirt and grass and metal.

She lies there, trying to work out where she is and how she got here. It starts to come back in little flashes. Northville. The cemetery. Finding Patty—but it wasn’t Patty. And then—

Holtz.

She opens her eyes, and the effort it takes just to lift her eyelids is nearly too much for her.

There are still black spots in her vision. Everything is hazy—or is that just the fog settling in the air?

She needs to get out of here. She realizes that much, at least. She’s in danger here. The real question is, from whom?

She slowly, painfully, rolls on to her stomach so she can push herself up, just enough to see what she’s lying on.

Her eyes struggle to focus, but then the metal plaque becomes clear.

_ROWAN NORTH_

_October 31, 1981 — September 9, 2016_

That gives her a jolt of energy, enough to scramble up from the grave, tripping over herself to get away from it.

And then she sees it—a body, lying in the grass less than a hundred feet away.

All the air disappears from her lungs.

She stumbles blindly in that direction, but doesn’t make it all the way before it becomes too much for her, and she collapses a few feet in front of her, curling into the ground with a sob.

“Erin.”

Her head snaps up so fast its a wonder she doesn’t break her neck.

There, past the body, on the other side of the headstones, is Abby.

Abby.

Glowing. Translucent.

Dead.

“Abby,” she chokes out.

“You did this,” Abby says.

“I’m sorry,” Erin whispers.

“This is your fault,” Abby spits. “You left. You left me alone to face him. Where were you when it counted, Erin? This never would have happened if we had been together.”

“I’m sorry,” Erin cries. Her chest feels like it’s going to explode.

Abby’s unearthly voice rings out. “I’m never going to forgive you for this.”

Erin crumples.

She’s never going to forgive herself.

“Erin?”

This voice is closer. Fainter. Weaker.

Ghost-Abby’s eyes flitter down to the body.

Erin’s heart thuds in her ears.

She crawls closer, closing the last few feet.

She pulls Abby’s hand into hers.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

And then she feels it.

She moves her fingers to rest against Abby’s wrist, then stills. Is she imagining it?

It’s faint. So faint. She can feel how hard its struggling.

But it’s there. A pulse.

Her breath catches.

She looks up.

The ghost is gone.

“Abby?” she asks, voice cracking.

“Be careful,” another voice comes.

Erin’s head whips over her shoulder.

Holtz is standing behind her, face hard.

Erin staggers up to her feet, letting go of Abby.

“Don’t take anything at face value,” Holtz warns, eyes on Abby’s body.

Erin is shaking.

“I’m not going to,” she says.

And then she lunges at her.

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2019

* * *

“Erin, come on now. You gotta stop this.”

Erin picks up a head of organic lettuce, then sets it back down on the stand. “Sorry, I know. I need to focus.” She scans the farmer’s market for any sign of paranormal disturbance, which is what they’re here for—not shopping.

Patty shakes her head. “You gotta cut it out. It’s not fair to her.”

Erin’s brow creases. “Who?” The woman who called in with the tip?

“Holtzy. This has been going on too long. It needs to stop.”

Erin does stop—stops dead, frowning further. “What are you talking about?”

Patty stops too, swinging around to face her. “Erin. Come on. Don’t pretend like you don’t know what you’re doing. You’ve been leading her on for _years_.”

“Leading her…on?” Erin repeats, the words echoing in her ears. An uncomfortable feeling spreads in her chest. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Patty gives her a look. “Don’t. Don’t play dumb. You _know_. You’ve known since the second she met you that she’s interested. And you’ve never done the right thing. It stops now, alright? She needs to move on.”

“I—” Erin can feel her skin prickling. There’s a staticky feeling in her head. It’s making her vision blur around the edges. “I never meant to—”

“You’re hurting her, Erin,” Patty says.

Erin shrinks back. “I’m not trying to.”

“You’re hurting her, Erin,” Patty repeats, louder this time.

The static in Erin’s head becomes more intense. It feels like something is trying to burst from her skull. “I’m not trying to—”

“ _You’re hurting her_ ,” Patty shouts.

Heads turn to look at them, but Erin can’t make out any of their faces.

“ _You’re hurting her_ ,” Patty screams. “ _You’re hurting her, Erin!”_

Erin can’t hear anything but her, shouting it over and over again.

_You’re hurting her, Erin!_

* * *

NORTHVILLE, MICHIGAN, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin is going to kill her.

Holtz’s blinks are slow, heavy. Black spots overwhelm her vision. Erin’s face above her.

If it’s the last thing she’s ever going to see, she can live with that.

She’ll love her until the end.

Even if it kills her.

* * *

“ _You’re hurting her, Erin!_ ” Patty screams across the cemetery for what feels like the hundredth time, but there’s no point. She’s stuck, bound by invisible restraints, unable to break free and do anything to stop her.

All she can do is watch as Erin’s grip tightens around Holtz’s neck. She’s close enough that she can see the moment when Holtz’s body goes slack.

Patty screams so loud she can feel a blood vessel burst in her eye.

Erin springs back, abruptly releasing Holtz like she’s been shocked. She stares at her hands in wide-eyed horror, then looks up, making eye contact with Patty.

And then she runs.

Erin is 50 yards in the opposite direction when Patty feels the hold on her break, releasing her.

She takes off in a sprint towards Holtz.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we ready for some answers?

* * *

NORTHVILLE, MICHIGAN, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin is in the mausoleum.

She doesn’t remember running here.

She remembers Holtz’s face, purple, beneath her.

She remembers Patty’s face, her features correct this time, across the graveyard. Was it really her?

Was it really Holtz?

Erin looks at her hands.

Are they really hers?

There’s a low, sinister chuckle.

It’s in her head, she realizes.

“Rowan,” she chokes out, voice shaking. Her voice echoes off the stone walls of the mausoleum.

The laughter grows louder.

“Get out,” she says with as much force as she can manage. “ _Get out_ ,” she cries.

The pressure changes, the air compressing around her, and her ears pop.

“Get out of where?” comes the unearthly voice.

And then he steps around the corner.

And she’s transported back 10 years.

She didn’t expect him to be so corporeal. Not in his own body, at least.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he looks alive. His feet touch the ground. He’s completely opaque. Solid.

“Rowan,” she repeats, barely audible.

“Erin,” he says. “We meet again at last.”

She catches something out of the corner of her eye. A few feet in front of her, Holtz’s proton bazooka is lying on the ground. She’s not sure how it got here—they didn’t bring it with them.

She inches microscopically towards it. If she can just grab it and fire before he attacks—

He tilts his head. “Now, now. Can’t we chat first? Catch up?” He smiles, and his eyes glow. “It’s been _years_. Don’t you want to know what I’ve been up to?”

Her hands ball up into fists. She doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t matter what she says. He’s going to say what he wants to say regardless.

“Do you know what day it is, Erin?” he says.

She shakes her head imperceptibly.

“Today is September 9th,” he says. “Ten years ago, I joined this plane. Ten years ago, you killed me.”

“You killed yourself,” Erin mumbles, unable to stop herself.

He ignores her. “Ten years ago, I vowed to become the strongest, most powerful being in the universe.”

She crosses her arms, trying to hide the fact that she’s shaking. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Quite well,” he says. “You see, Erin, you and your pitiful team thought you stopped me. You thought you banished me to this plane forever with your silly little portal.” He chuckles. “You’re such fools. I could have returned the next day to kill you if I wanted.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I decided killing you wasn’t enough,” he says.

That gets the hair on the back of Erin’s arms to stand up.

“I have spent,” he continues, “the last _ten years_ becoming stronger and more powerful. And here I am, ready to enact the final phase of my revenge. I’m almost disappointed. You’ve made it so _easy_. I’d say I expected better, but I always knew how weak you four are. Pathetic.”

“You’re the one who’s pathetic,” Erin says, putting on her best tough voice. “And whatever you’re up to with these weak spots, or whatever they are, we’re going to stop you.”

He starts laughing. And keeps laughing. It echoes through the mausoleum, sending chills down Erin’s spine.

“Stop what?” he says. “Don’t you get it? There’s no ghost invasion. There are no _weak spots_. I’m not here to take over the world. I told you: I only have one goal, and it’s too late to stop me.”

He takes a step closer. She steps backwards.

“I devised the perfect plan. I needed to take the Ghostbusters down, and there was only one way to do that: from the inside out. I needed to reach inside every single one of you and _break you_. So, I became the most skilled puppet master that has ever walked this earth. There has not been a _single_ moment of your life for the last decade that wasn’t controlled by me.”

He pauses, watching her as that sinks in.

She doesn’t believe it. There’s no way.

“It was so _easy_ ,” he says again. “You’re all so _stupid_ , so _weak_ , so effortlessly manipulated. I barely ever had to possess any of you. All it took was a whisper here, a suggestion there. It took no time at all to figure out exactly how to tear each of you apart and set the wheels in motion.

“Abby’s weakness was the easiest to attack,” he says, stepping closer still. “All I needed was for the rest of you to abandon her. At first I thought it would take a lot to break up your stupid little feelings club, but it proved simple. All I had to do was offer up the right opportunities at the right times, and you snapped at them without any coaxing at all.

“Of course, Patty had to go first. She was the linchpin, the catalyst to the rest of you leaving, but her offer also served another purpose.”

“The archive?” Erin whispers.

“She’s been collecting data for years, building the database. The whole while I’ve been planting information in her head, feeding her theories so when the time came, she would be convinced that all this was her fault. I knew the only way to torture her was if she believed she’d let the rest of you down. She always been so _insecure_ about her place on your team. Always trying to prove herself.” He scoffs. “It was perfect. Give her a platform to prove her worth, only to tear it out from under her. All her hard work, turned against her, bringing about the end of the world.”

“You said you weren’t trying to take over the world with the weak spots,” Erin says shakily.

“And she’ll never know that. She’ll spend the rest of her life believing that this was all her fault,” Rowan says. “Just like Abby will have died knowing that it’s because her friends abandoned her.”

A shockwave ripples through her.

He doesn’t know that Abby is still alive.

She vows right then and there that she’ll die before she gives up that information. He can never— _will never_ —know. If it’s the last thing she ever does.

“Burn in hell, Rowan,” she says.

He grins. “I’m trying to.”

Her eyes dart to the proton bazooka again. Her mind is already working out the math on how fast she could reach it and fire.

If he were human, she might stand a chance, but he’s got advantages that she can’t match. He could throw her against the wall from where he is without moving a muscle. He could sweep the gun out of her reach before she gets there.

“Don’t you want to hear the rest?” he asks.

Her eyes go back to him. “No,” she says tightly.

His smile settles into something more sinister. “You don’t want to hear what I did to her?”

At first she thinks he means Abby, but then he lifts his chin.

“Did you know that love is the emotion that’s most easily manipulated?”

He means Holtz, she realizes with a devastating blow.

She’s shaking again.

“Because it holds all other emotions,” Rowan continues. “Through it, you can access someone’s anger, their sadness, their pain, their jealousy, their fear. Every emotion at its most heightened. It’s truly humanity’s greatest weakness.”

She squeezes her eyes shut briefly. All she can see is Holtz’s face turning purple in her grasp.

She may have killed her.

She might be dead.

“She was hopelessly in love with you from the beginning,” Rowan says.

_Hopelessly in love_

“It set the perfect stage.” He steps closer. “For years, my main focus was making sure she knew you didn’t love her back. And making sure you didn’t know that you _did._ ”

All the air crushes out of her lungs.

“She was in anguish every single day,” he says contentedly. “By the time I sent her the CERN offer, she would’ve done anything to escape the pain. I didn’t even have to persuade her to accept. Of course, I did orchestrate her little plea on the rooftop. I was careful not to let her say too much—just enough to set the wheels in motion with you. It wasn’t easy—between my interference and your natural denial, it damn near took the full six months to get it through your thick little head.”

Her head spins.

“And then the pièce de résistance. Your own little confession. That one took so much convincing that I didn’t know if it was going to all come together in the end. You almost backed out so many times.”

Erin remembers.

All the times she rehearsed in front of her mirror. All the times she considered letting her get on the plane without ever speaking the words.

Every time, a voice in her head saying she’d regret it if she didn’t.

He smiles slyly. “You’re remembering, aren’t you?”

_I think I’m in love with you_

_It’s too late_

He waves his hand dismissively. “Of course, the response wasn’t her at all. It took a great deal to override her.” He pauses. “Even more to force her on that plane. She would have stayed.”

She would have stayed.

_She would have stayed_.

“But on she went,” he says. “I stepped in enough to keep her from turning right back around, but I made sure she still felt the urge. I wanted the dilemma to tear her up inside, even if the choice wasn’t hers to make in the end. And then, right when she was at her breaking point, I sent in the next phase of my plan for her.

“I was quite pleased with Genevieve,” he says thoughtfully. “I chose her specifically. She was perfect for her. She looks like you, did you know?”

Erin didn’t know.

“She made her happy enough not to break it off—not that I ever would’ve let her—but miserable enough that I was satisfied. They fought constantly—still do. Of course, I made sure she never stopped thinking about you. Every time she tried to move on, I pulled her back in. But I made sure she never contacted you—not one phone call, not one text message. That was essential, for both her suffering and yours.

“And that leads me to you, Erin. You’ve been the one I’ve enjoyed destroying most.”

She stiffens.

“Once I finally forced you to realize your feelings for her, I knew it was coasting from there. Her taking off to Switzerland was essential. I knew you wouldn’t leave Abby without some coaxing, and all I had to do was fill you with memories until you couldn’t face the pain anymore. California was an obvious choice, far from everything, a fresh start.”

His lips curl again. “I can’t tell you how delighted I was to find Theodore for you.”

She knew it was coming, somehow, but it still crashes through her.

“What I was surprised by was how easy it was,” he says. “You did all the work for me. He was exactly your type. Ready to demean you at any chance—and you _welcomed it_. You let him walk all over you from the beginning! It was _perfect._ And the children? Brilliant. I didn’t have to feed them anything. They were so ready to tear you apart. The things they came up with—” He kisses his fingers. “I couldn’t have written it better myself.”

He chuckles slowly. “And don’t get me started on the affair.” He closes his eyes, drinking it all in. “He did that all by himself. I couldn’t believe my luck. Naturally, I had to make sure that you saw it for yourself before the wedding. I was expecting you to try to break it off right then, but you _married him anyway_.” He laughs again. “I didn’t have to do _anything_. I couldn’t believe how _stupid_ you were! It was so much better than anything I could have planned.”

Her hands are clenched into fists again.

“I knew you were thinking about divorce, and encouraged you. I wanted you to go through that humiliation as well. But the timing had to be right.”

He’s coming to the end of the story. Erin can find some relief in that.

“All this—” He gestures around them— “has been the plan since day one. It was always meant to unfold like this. I planned every step, every detail. I kept close by this whole time. I couldn’t believe nobody noticed. I was kind of hoping somebody would—or at least that you’d get a kick out of his name.”

Erin frowns, then it hits her a second later. “Aaron?”

“A nice boy,” Rowan says. “A better vessel.”

“You were possessing him the whole time.”

“Just enough to keep an eye on things,” Rowan says. “To make sure that everyone was exactly where I needed you to be for this final phase. The four of you are at your weakest. Abby was at her breaking point after months of dealing with my diversions. Patty just lost funding for her research and is fighting to prove its value and save the project.” He pauses to laugh at her expression. “Didn’t tell you that part, did she?”

She doesn’t react.

“And then of course, Jillian is in a losing battle with her girlfriend, and you’re in the middle of a divorce. It was the perfect storm to bring you all back together and exact the final phase. So here we are.” He sweeps his arms wide. “Welcome to hell, Erin. Have you enjoyed your trip?”

She tries to keep her breathing even. “The lightning yesterday—that was you, right?”

He settles his smug gaze on her. “ _Everything_ was me. Don’t you get it? _Everything_.”

And that’s it. It’s over.

The finality of his statement settles in the air around her.

“Are you going to kill me now?” she says, trying to sound as brave as she possibly can.

“That was never my plan,” he says. “I told you. I intend to psychologically torment you for the rest of your life.”

“You killed Abby,” she says.

“Exactly,” he says.

Rage fills her again.

“Then why would you tell me all this? I’ll just go tell the others, and then it’s all over. You can’t hurt us if we know you’re doing it.”

He starts laughing again, quietly, then louder.

“Oh, Erin,” he says, dripping with condescension. “I said I intended to torment you for the rest of your life. I never said the rest of your life would be long.” He grins like he’s waiting for her to catch up.

“You said you weren’t going to kill me.”

“And I’m not.”

His eyes go, very purposefully, to the proton bazooka on the floor.

She follows his gaze, staring at it.

“You’re going to make me kill myself, aren’t you?” she says slowly.

“I’m not going to make you do anything,” he says cryptically.

She’s had enough of the mind games. She exhales. Waits.

“Your little girlfriend has gotten cocky,” he says. “CERN hasn’t been a good influence on her.”

“CERN? Or _you?_ ”

“One and the same,” he says with a wink that makes her skin crawl. “Either way, she _really_ should have tested that little number before putting it into rotation.”

Erin didn’t even know that she _had_ put it into rotation. The original, the one they tested on the roof that fateful day, was stripped for parts by Abby. This is a replica.

Holtz has rebuilt a lot of tech the past week. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for Erin to have missed her building this one.

It also wouldn’t be unreasonable for Rowan to have made it.

Either way, it shouldn’t be here, so she’s decided she’s not going to touch it.

He nods his chin at the weapon. “Go ahead. Pick it up.”

She presses her mouth into a hard line. “No, thank you.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Even if it would put an end to me?”

When she doesn’t respond, he smiles, a maniacal glint in his eyes.

“If you fire that at me, it _will_ destroy me. I’ll be gone for good. I won’t be able to keep terrorizing your little friends. You’ll have saved the world once more.” He pauses for dramatic emphasis. “But, if you fire it, you’ll blow up this entire building, and yourself with it.”

“Why should I believe anything you have to say?” She shakes her head. “You’ve just confessed to ten _years_ of manipulating me and my friends. You’ve been planning this for a _decade_. Your grand finale would _never_ be to hand me the weapon to destroy you.”

“Wouldn’t it?” He cocks his head. “Think about it. I’ve spent ten years getting inside your head, burning your life down from the inside out, and now—my magnum opus. I get to watch you make the decision. You can let me walk away, knowing you didn’t even _try_ to stop me, and rest assured knowing this time around I will stop at _nothing_ to take over the world. You’ve seen what I’m capable of now. I’ve got power cut to an eighth of the world’s population right now.” He pauses. “You know what? That sounds too low.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, raising his hands in front of him, and his palms dance with visible electricity. The light bounces off the crypt-lined walls.

She can feel the electricity in the air. It’s even more prominent than the ionization.

He sweeps his hands wide with a thunderous boom.

“There. Now that’s a quarter of the planet.” He opens his eyes with a wicked grin. “People have already started dying. Did you notice?”

She did. There was a death toll in the news articles she read last night. She can’t imagine how much it’s risen overnight.

He lifts his palms dramatically again. “Shall we try for half?”

Four billion people without power and no way to restore it. She shakes with the implications.

“Or.” He slowly lowers his hands. “You can pick up that gun and sacrifice yourself to take me down.” His hands fall by his sides, still crackling with electricity. “The choice is yours.”

Erin’s eyes land on the proton bazooka again.

She can see several possible outcomes play out in her head.

Outcome number one: She doesn’t chance it. She lets him go. He does exactly as he says, and takes over the world. They try to stop him—but would they succeed? How could they, when he’s as strong as he is? Abby and Holtz are both badly injured, maybe even dead. Patty could very well be injured too. And he’s proved how easily he can hurt them, manipulate them, turn them against each other. She wouldn’t even know who to trust.

It would be catastrophic.

Outcome two: He’s lying. The proton gun won’t take him out at all, just kill her. She will have sacrificed herself for nothing. Outcome one will happen anyway.

Outcome three: He’s lying. The proton blast won’t blow up the building or kill her. He’s just trying to manipulate her into letting him go.

Outcome four: None of it makes a difference. She’s going to do exactly what he wants, whatever it is, because that’s the whole point. He’ll take over the world if he wants to. He’ll kill her if he wants to.

He’s going to win no matter what she does.

Unless—

Her heart thuds.

_Abby?_

What if she can cheat?

_I just get this feeling…_

What if there’s one thing that even he can’t control?

_Like maybe…_

What if she can beat him at his own game?

_Being exposed to a plane of existence that living people aren’t meant to be in_

She looks up slowly, determination setting in.

_Don’t you think that it could’ve changed us?_

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2016

* * *

They’re sitting on the steps of Erin’s apartment. Holtz hasn’t been able to take her eyes off her for nearly an hour, watching her flip her Swiss Army knife over and over in her hands.

“You okay, Gilbert?” she asks softly.

Erin looks up at her with a slight shake of her head. “What just happened, Holtz?”

“I’ll tell you what just happened.” Holtz reaches over to gently pluck the knife from Erin’s grasp, weighing it in her own palm. “You just jumped in a ghost portal and saved the world.”

Erin bites her lip. “But I didn’t do it to save the world. I did it to save Abby.”

Holtz smiles. She lifts her hand and slowly, carefully, tucks a section of Erin’s stark white hair behind her ear.

“I know,” she says, “and that’s even more noble.”

Erin gazes at her for a long moment, her eyes shining.

Holtz presses the Swiss Army knife back into her hands, then scoots closer to her on the step, her arm finding its way around her waist. Erin leans in, resting her head on her shoulder.

“And now everything’s going to be okay,” Holtz murmurs. “All because of you.”

* * *

NORTHVILLE, MICHIGAN, USA: 2026

* * *

Erin staggers under the weight of the proton bazooka. It’s much heavier than she remembers.

Warm laughter echoes in her head.

_You have no idea how ridiculous you look holding it like that_

_Sorry that I don’t know how to hold a_ bazooka _, Holtz_

Her arms shake.

Across from her, he smirks, chin lifted, egging her on.

_You’ve gotta support it_ , Holtz whispers in her ear. _Pretend it’s a floppy, life-ruining infant_

Erin almost laughs.

She can feel her like a ghost. One hand on her waist. Guiding her.

She takes aim.

_There’s going to be some kickback_

Her fingers find the trigger.

_Fire when ready, soldier_

She closes her eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

* * *

NORTHVILLE, MICHIGAN, USA: 2026

* * *

Something heavy slams into Erin from the opposite direction as she was expecting, knocking her and the proton bazooka to the ground.

Before she can react or fight back, the weight is off of her.

Her eyes are blurry with tears, but when she blinks, the fuzzy hallway comes into focus.

The mausoleum is alight with proton beams ricocheting off the marble-plated crypts.

“Stay down!” a voice shouts.

It washes over her like a tidal wave.

Holtz.

It’s Holtz.

If she wasn’t already on the ground, she’s sure she would collapse with relief.

Erin tries to focus in on what’s happening, but there’s so much light and chaos. And _noise_.

And then—something small and black, whizzing across the floor to her, kicked by Holtz.

“Red button, then throw!” Holtz commands.

Erin scrambles for the flat rectangle, finding the big red button with her thumb and mashing it down like her life depends on it.

Then she winds back her arm and hurls it as hard as she can at Rowan, praying that that’s what she was meant to do.

It happens instantaneously. The box explodes with blinding light, arching around to encircle and ensnare Rowan’s thrashing form. There’s a screeching noise that doesn’t sound like it’s coming from him at all.

And then, as quickly as it all started, it stops. The light closes in on itself, swallowing Rowan up, and all light disappears from the room entirely.

The small black box clatters to the floor, echoing off the now dead-silent mausoleum.

For a few seconds, all Erin can do is gasp for breath.

“What _was_ that?” she manages to choke out. “Was that a portal?”

Holtz staggers forward, snatching the palm-sized box from the ground. “Just a little something I’ve been working on,” she says, also out of breath. “Think Poké Ball…but for ghosts.”

“That’s a _trap?_ ”

Without answering, Holtz stumbles back over, sinking to her knees in front of Erin. Her own gun drops to the floor beside her. She clutches the trap in her left hand. Her injured right arm still hangs motionless by her side. There are bruises around her neck.

Erin’s question is monetarily wiped from her mind. “Are you okay?”

Holtz looks up sharply. “Are _you?_ ”

“Yes,” Erin says quickly.

Holtz sits there staring at the trap in her hand for a minute, breathing heavily, and then looks at her again. “So do you want to explain what the hell you were doing?”

“I—” Erin falters.

“You were about to die. You realize that, right? Like, on the list of sure-fire ways to die, picking up a weapon that your enemy has tampered with is _pretty_ much at the top.”

“I know,” Erin says quietly.

“You _know_?”

“I had a plan,” Erin says.

“Did you really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like your plan was to just fire that gun and hope for the best. And then die.”

“It wouldn’t have killed me,” Erin says timidly. “I don’t think so, anyway. Just like he couldn’t kill—shit, Abby!” She tries to scramble to her feet and fails. “She’s—we have to—”

“She’s with Patty,” Holtz says calmly. “They’re on their way to the hospital.”

Erin slumps back down with relief.

Holtz eyes her. “What was that you were saying about the 100% deadly bazooka not killing you?”

Erin licks her lips and tastes metal. Is she bleeding?

She touches her cheek and it comes back red. She is. How long as she been bleeding?

“I’ve had this…theory,” she says cautiously. “For a while now. I think that…when Abby and I went inside that portal ten years ago, being exposed to the spectral plane…changed us. Nobody living is meant to be on that plane. So my theory is that we…Abby and I…developed a sort of resistance. That if we face the barrier again, we won’t be able to cross through it.”

Holtz reads between the lines immediately. “You think you and Abby are _immortal?_ ”

She’s not laughing, at least.

“I don’t know,” Erin says in a rush. “It’s just a theory.”

“And you decided,” Holtz says with disbelief as she connects the dots, “to _test_ that theory?”

“It was the only shot I had to stop him!” Erin says. “And when I saw Abby today, I spoke to her when she was halfway crossed over to that plane, and then she _came back_. She was _alive_. It confirmed what I had been thinking, that—”

“Erin,” Holtz says, “Abby was _never_ dead.”

That stops her in her tracks. “What?”

“The ghost you saw was just Rowan taking Abby’s form. It was a trick, Erin—all of it was. He never tried to kill her at all. He separated her from Patty, then knocked her unconscious. He used Patty to call you so we’d come. Patty doesn’t remember phoning. She was surprised to see us here.”

Erin blinks, all her theories coming crashing down on her.

After Rowan’s entire confession, how did she not realize? How was she so stupid to think she could outsmart him?

It hits her abruptly that he probably planted the whole theory in her head so many years ago. All so he could manipulate her in her final moments.

“He was in all of our heads,” Holtz says grimly. “Controlling us. Disorienting us. Making it so we had no idea what was real and what wasn’t. Making us hurt each other.”

Erin is quiet for a moment. “He’s been doing that for the last ten years.”

A pause. “I know.”

At Erin’s obvious surprise, Holtz sighs.

“I caught most of his speech,” she says. “I was hiding around the corner. Waiting to step in at the right moment.”

Erin lets that sink in.

“He had to have known you were there,” she says slowly.

Holtz bites her lip and nods.

Erin’s mind spins, and her eyes fall on the small trap in Holtz’s hand.

“How do you know that he’s in there?”

“Can’t,” Holtz says. “Not without breaking it open. Schrödinger’s ghost.”

Erin stares at it. “He would have known that you had that with you.”

Holtz nods again.

“He could have even given you the idea. Helped you build it.”

“Yup.”

“So how do we know that—”

“We don’t,” Holtz says. “We can’t. If _this_ was part of his plan—” She lifts the trap— “then there’s nothing we can do about it now. Likewise if he escaped before it closed.”

“Could he have? Escaped?”

Holtz shrugs one shoulder. “Course. I’ve never tested it, and even if I had, he’s stronger than your run of the mill ghost. Maybe his plan was to disappear in the split second before it closed, leading us to believe that we caught him.”

Erin is quiet for a moment. “I don’t feel good about this.”

“Neither do I,” Holtz says with another shrug, “but there’s nothing much we can do besides lock it up and monitor it, so if he ever tries to return, we’ll be ready.”

Erin sits for a moment, then something else occurs to her. She pulls her phone from her pocket and turns it on.

There are several nationwide emergency alerts on her screen. Her heart stops, but then she reads the latest.

_AT 8:42AM EST, SEPTEMBER 9, 2026, POWER WAS RESTORED WORLDWIDE. GLOBAL STATE OF EMERGENCY TO REMAIN IN EFFECT FOR RECOVERY EFFORTS AND INVESTIGATION._

“All the power has come back,” Erin breathes. “That has to mean something.”

“It means that we saved the world for today,” Holtz agrees.

There are also a few texts from Patty. Erin quickly fires off a message to let her know that the two of them are alive and that Rowan has been stopped. No matter how true it is in the long term, Holtz is right. For today, they are safe.

They sit in silence for quite some time. Erin knows they should move, get out of here, probably go find whatever hospital Abby and Patty are at, but she can’t bring herself to move just yet.

“How long were you standing there listening?” she asks finally, quietly.

Holtz glances at her. “Long enough.”

And in those words is everything Erin needs to know.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“For what?” Holtz asks bitterly. “The fact that a sociopath has been controlling our lives for a decade?” She laughs once, but the sound is sad. “It’s not your fault. He was right—it _is_ the easiest emotion to manipulate.”

Erin’s chest aches. She drops her gaze, unable to meet the pain in Holtz’s eyes.

“Holtz, I…”

“Don’t. Not now.”

Erin looks up. “Don’t you think we should talk about—”

“Erin.” Holtz shakes her head, not meeting her eyes. “We just found out that the past ten years of our lives haven’t been ours at all. That everything we experienced, everything we felt, was all orchestrated for us. I don’t even know what to trust anymore.”

Erin bites down hard on her lip again, drawing even more blood.

Holtz turns the small trap over and over in her hands. “I just think…I’m going to need some time to figure out what’s real. You know?”

Erin understands, but she doesn’t want to.

_This is real_ , she wants to say. _We’re real._

Instead, she nods, her heart sinking heavy in her chest.

Time.

She can give her that.


	19. Chapter 19

* * *

MELBOURNE, VICTORIA, AUSTRALIA: 2027

* * *

“This must be killing you, huh?”

Erin shifts in place on the uncomfortable wooden pew, eyes trained on the altar. “Why? Because…” She glances at Patty with a nervous laugh. “I mean, we never dated. So.”

“Who’d you never date?”

Erin jumps at Holtz’s voice, straightening up as she slides in beside her and immediately props her polished shoe on the row in front of her.

“Holtz,” she says, a little breathlessly. “Um.” She shakes her head a little to clear it. “You—look really nice.”

Holtz’s mouth hooks up as she tweaks the lapel of her well-fitting suit. “Well, y’know, special occasion and all. Figured I should probably dress up.”

Erin swallows away the pain in her throat, head bobbing. “Well. You look good.”

“You too, Erin,” Holtz says distractedly, peering towards the front of the chapel. “Damn it. Abby’s giving me the stink eye. Probably means I need to get back up there. Wouldn’t want to hold this shebang up, you know?”

“Right, of course,” Erin says, stomach flipping.

Holtz gives them both a small salute and then slips from the pew again. Erin watches her saunter back to the front and take her place beside Abby, then finally tears her gaze away, eyes dropping to her feet.

“Chin up,” Patty says, although there’s pity in her voice.

“Happy occasion,” Erin murmurs to herself.

The music changes. It’s time.

She inhales deeply, steadying herself, and then stands, turning to face the back of the chapel.

They step out, arms linked together, and make their way down the aisle.

Erin can’t help it—she turns her head to look at Holtz’s reaction.

She looks happy, but slightly in disbelief. Like she can’t believe that this is really happening.

Erin feels the same way.

She turns her head back just in time to catch Kevin’s eye as he walks past. He smiles at her and Patty with excitement.

As weird as it is seeing him, it’s even more jarring to see Aaron on his arm.

Turns out, when not possessed by a sociopathic demon, Aaron is a lovely guy.

That doesn’t mean they weren’t all thrown when he started dating Kevin. Or when they very-unexpectedly announced their engagement a mere few months later.

And then announced they’d be moving back to Kevin’s homeland after the wedding.

They take their places up at the alter, and the officiant begins.

And Erin is happy for them, she really is, but that doesn’t stop her from focussing on Holtz for most of the ceremony.

She just never thought this is where they’d be a year later.

* * *

Erin is alone at her table, her dinner sitting uncomfortably in her stomach. Everyone else is out on the dance floor, but she’s wallowing instead.

“The one that got away, huh?”

Erin’s head snaps up, looking behind her to see Holtz there, her suit jacket slung over her shoulder. She tosses it over the back of the empty seat next to her, then sits down.

“Who, Kevin?” Erin fidgets with her dirty napkin, long since destroyed from its fancy folded shape. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Well, I mean.” Holtz grabs the wine glass in front of her and drinks the dregs of Patty’s wine, then sets it down with a cavalier shrug. “You were head over heels for him for so long. Everyone but you could see how hopelessly unrequited it was.”

Erin’s stomach flips painfully. A shadow crosses over Holtz’s face, then smooths out as she looks purposefully in the other direction.

Erin reaches for her own half-empty wine glass, downing the rest of it in one long gulp.

“Do you want to dance?” Holtz asks.

Erin looks up apprehensively. “Really?”

Holtz’s eyes go to her. “Yeah. Come on.” She stands up, holding out her hand.

Erin stares at it for a moment, then takes it.

Holtz leads her out to the dance floor.

The music selection thus far has been questionable, if not downright confusing, mostly because one of the grooms himself is DJing. Kevin stands at the booth, his tongue poking out between his teeth as he flits from song to song.

This current choice is on the slower side. Erin is at least 94% sure that Holtz knows how to waltz (or all those ballroom dance competitions she disappeared off to back in the day were a cover for something else), but they fall into an awkward, middle-school-spring-formal sway instead.

Erin can’t look her in the eyes without it becoming hard to breathe, so instead she studies her hair.

“Back to your old style,” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” Holtz says. “I realized that I was trying to be someone I wasn’t.”

Erin bites her lip.

“How’s New York?” Holtz asks.

“It’s really good,” Erin says. “I’m so happy to be back. It’s been great. Just like old times.”

“Good, good.”

“How’s CERN?”

Holtz licks her lips. “Busy as ever. I accidentally made a black hole the other day.”

“You wh—”

“So I heard a rumour that it’s a special occasion,” Holtz blurts, cutting her off.

Erin blinks. “You mean Kevin’s…wedding?”

“That too.” Holtz tilts her head. “But I actually heard it’s a big day for you.”

“Oh.” Erin feels her cheeks heat up. “Yes. It’s official as of this morning.”

After a year-long legal battle, more days spent in court than she can count, a surprise defamation lawsuit on the grounds that Erin cost him the election, and an immeasurable amount of stress: it’s finally over. Her divorce is finalized. And best of all: not only did he lose the lawsuit, but he came out owing _her_ money.

A grin breaks across Holtz’s face. “ _Nice._ Welcome back, Gilbert.”

A matching smile stretches across Erin’s face. It’s true: for the first time in years, she feels like she’s truly back to her old self.

But everything still feels out of place.

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2016

* * *

“Do you think they’re ever going to get their act together?”

Abby looks up beside Patty, following her gaze to the other side of the lab. “Who, Erin and Holtzmann?” She scoffs. “Not likely. If it hasn’t happened by now, I don’t think it ever will.”

Patty watches the two of them talking by the containment unit, where they’re standing with less than an inch between them. Holtz has one hand on Erin’s lower back, the other waving in the air animatedly as she talks. It’s been like this for hours. Days, even. 10% actual work, 90% flirting. The containment unit is never going to be finished.

“I don’t know,” Patty says contemplatively. “I’m gonna hold out hope. Call me a romantic, but I think they’ll get there. Even if it takes some time. It’s never too late.”

* * *

MELBOURNE, VICTORIA, AUSTRALIA: 2027

* * *

Holtz’s toes are tingling.

They don’t usually do that. Her arm does that, sometimes. Leftover side effects from the whole lightning-strike-nerve-damage situation. She did regain feeling and movement in that arm eventually, but it still likes to act up sometimes.

Her toes, though, that’s new. Maybe they’re trying to tell her something.

Her hand is light on Erin’s waist as they dance. She looks really beautiful tonight. She’s wearing a loud-patterned dress, and it’s so atypical for Erin, a stretch from her old fade-into-the-background browns and beiges. She’s taking up space tonight. Demanding to be seen.

Holtz sees her. She’s always seen her.

They dance.

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” Holtz murmurs.

Erin blinks down at her. “For Kevin to get married?”

Holtz can’t help but smile. “Something like that.”

Erin opens and closes her mouth like there’s something she wants to say.

Holtz waits. She lifts her chin, the corner of her mouth tugging, and reaches up to tuck a stray hair behind Erin’s ear.

She can see every rise and fall of Erin’s chest.

“Holtz?” she whispers finally. “Have you figured out what’s real?”

She thought she’d never ask.

She stretches up onto her tingling toes and kisses her like she’s wanted to for 11 years.

Erin responds instantly, falling into her, her hands moving from her shoulders to cup her face, and the rest of the world slips away. A third apocalypse could break out and she’s sure neither of them would notice.

It’s everything Holtz ever wanted. And so, so worth the wait.

“Is that enough of an answer?” she asks breathlessly against Erin's lips.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, _NO_ ,” comes the voice across the room, followed by the sound of running. “ _Absolutely not_.”

Holtz drops onto her heels and rests her forehead against Erin’s neck to hide her smile.

“Hello, Abby,” Erin says in a dreamy voice. Her arms have found their way around Holtz.

“You can’t _do this_ ,” Abby all but shouts. “This isn’t allowed! I _just_ got you back, and now you’re going to go jutting off to Sweden together—”

“Switzerland,” Holtz mumbles.

“—and it’s _not okay!”_

Patty has appeared, drawn by the shouting. “Hey, Abby, maybe let’s—”

“ _It’s not okay_.”

Holtz lifts her head to gaze up at Erin. “Hey, did I mention that I’m moving back to New York?”

“What?” all three of them say at various decibel levels.

Holtz shrugs, still very much clinging to Erin. “Well, my CERN contract is about to be up—”

“No it’s not,” Patty says.

Holtz tears her gaze away from Erin for the first time. “You caught me. I guess I just know where my true home is.”

She can feel Erin’s hold on her tighten.

Abby blinks at them. “Well…shit then.”

Holtz bows her head, expecting a congratulations, but instead Abby turns on Patty.

“You know this means you need to come back now, right?”

“Hey, come on now,” Patty says. “Can’t we just take a minute to be happy for—”

“Nope, no, this is more important,” Abby says.

Patty falters when she realizes all three of them are staring at her. “You know I miss y’all, but I can’t just quit my job and—”

“Come on, Patty,” Holtz pleads. “ _I’m_ doing it.”

Patty points at her. “Means nothing; you have ulterior motives.”

Holtz stretches up to kiss Erin’s red cheek. “What? That doesn’t sound like me.”

“I don’t know why you went back to begin with,” Abby says. “At least Holtz had a real job. Yours was solely created to—”

“Abby,” Erin chastises.

“It’s true! I’m just telling it like it is. Face it, you could keep doing your research in New York, and it’ll be infinitely better because we can help you.” Abby crosses her arms. “I’ll even pay for your relocation.”

“No you won’t,” the three of them say.

“Okay, no I won’t,” Abby says. “Come on, please? It won’t be the same without you.”

They all gaze at Patty expectantly.

Finally, she groans, throwing her hands up. “Okay, fine. Fine! I was going to come back in a few months when my contract was up anyway.”

Abby lights up. “Really?”

“Yeah. Chicago is great, but it isn’t New York. And my colleagues are incredible, but…well, they aren’t family.”

“Awww,” Holtz choruses. “Come on guys, bring it in.”

Abby and Patty grumble, but envelope them in a group hug.

“So that’s it, then?” Erin asks. “We’re all back?”

“Well, not _all_ of us,” Patty says.

They all look across the dance floor, to where their favourite receptionist is getting down with his groom to some sort of bagpipe tune.

“Oh, Kev,” Holtz says fondly. “We’re not gonna find another one like you.”

They dissolve into laughter, breaking out of their group hug, and their eyes shine with hope and the endless possibilities of the future stretching out in front of them.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!

* * *

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, USA: 2036

* * *

“Hey, Erin?”

Erin looks up at the love of her life and is flooded with the same feelings of delirious happiness that overwhelm her every time she does so. It’s always been like looking into the sun.

She gestures for her to come over. Erin picks herself up from her desk and joins her over by the phone-booth-sized lead box at the edge of the lab.

“What is it?” Erin asks.

Holtz pushes her goggles up onto her head and taps at the small glass window. “Take a gander.”

Erin leans forward, placing her hand on the side of the containment unit to brace herself. As she does so, her eyes dart to the metal band around her ring finger. Right hand, not left.

_Made that myself_ , Holtz had said when she gave it to her. _Titanium. Infinitely stronger than zirconium._

They aren’t married, and they never will be. It’s not Holtz’s thing.

And Erin couldn’t be happier.

She smiles to herself and tears her gaze away to peer into the unit at the small, familiar black box resting on the platform inside.

“Is it just me,” Holtz says, “or has that bad boy moved three-thirty-eighths of an inch to the right?”

Erin straightens up slowly, a bigger smile spreading on her face. When she turns to Holtz, she can see that she’s grinning as well.

“I think you’re right,” Erin says.

Holtz’s grin widens gleefully.

“You ready for this?” Erin asks.

Holtz tugs her yellow goggles back down over her eyes and winks. “ _Hell_ yes.”

Then she slams her hand into the big glowing red button on the front of the unit with a giddy laugh.

* * *

END

* * *


End file.
